Limericks and Lovin'
by JillianPeters
Summary: A stakeout gets a little out of control as Stephanie and Lester come across a hidden bottle of hooch on a steamy summer night. Rating for smutty Lester/Stephanie situations. :- Happy Reading!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters! They are owned by Janet Evanovich. Rating for adult situations, smut, and language.**

Stephanie's POV

The interior temperature of the Cadillac Escalade had to have been about a hundred degrees and climbing. The fact that the truck was painted black and the freaking leather upholstery was black did nothing to cool me off. Since we couldn't have the truck running due to our surveillance position, turning on the A/C was just a pipe dream. Several feet in front of us stood the front door of a disheveled office building that had seen better days. Sitting here staring at the door, waiting for the bad guy to exit, was not high on my list of must-dos before I die. I'd rather have been shoe shopping at Macy's, or even afternoon-rendezvousing with Dickie Orr, my horse's-patoot ex-husband. Even attending a closed-casket viewing at Stiva's with Grandma held more appeal, since Stiva had installed central air conditioning. And, not to mention the cookies he always had set out.

My curly brown hair stuck to the back of my sweaty neck and my arms stuck to the leather seat. I almost asked to roll down the windows, but since the windows were tinted darker than the ones on the President's limo and required to keep our identities concealed, I quickly shut my mouth and accepted my fate. Several feet next to us, hidden partially behind a large azalea shrub, sat Tank and Bobby in a shiny black King Ranch Expedition. I could faintly see an outline of Tank at the wheel, holding a pair of small binoculars to his face and training them in the direction of the front of the building. They both had to be _dying _in there, with their windows rolled up and the engine off.

Several parking spots away from Tank and Bobby sat Hal and Woody, beating the heat in a black Navigator. I could see Woody in the passenger's seat, trying to put his booted feet up on the dash, and Hal's murderous look as he watched him. Hal must have barked something to Woody, because Woody immediately put his feet down and picked up his small battery-operated fan instead.

Fucker. I _so_ desperately wished I had the brains to remember to bring my fan, but I was dragged out of my cubicle and into the Escalade so quickly I barely had time to grab a couple healthy snacks and water bottles to stuff into my shoulder bag. I had the privilege of sharing air space with Lester Santos, who was sitting less than a foot away from me, trying to pass time by sharing ridiculous limericks and riddles. We were all dressed in RangeMan black. I vaguely remembered one of the guys asking Ranger to switch our uniforms to a lighter color in the summer. I assumed the answer was no, because I haven't seen him in the building since, and our uniforms were still black.

Lester, who enjoys violent confrontations and run-ins with the Trenton P.D., had lost some wind from his joke sails when I snapped at him after hearing one-too-many of the dirty poems he'd made up. He was sitting quietly in the driver's seat, his wrist draped over the steering wheel and his right hand texting furiously on his iPhone. He was wearing mirrored-lens Oakleys, a black RangeMan t-shirt that was untucked and looked painted onto his outstanding body, and expensive-looking black boots. He looked up from his phone when Tank's voice came over our wires.

"How long have we been sitting out here waiting for Pancoast?" Tank asked, to anyone in general, because we were all connected to be able to hear each other's conversations. Lester reached around to his back where his two-way transmitter was clipped and turned the volume up on his earpiece.

"Uh, probably only twenty-seven minutes and six seconds, why?" Lester responded, a grin spreading across his face.

"No reason, just wondering if it's possible for a human to melt." Tank sounded frustrated. "By the way, Santos, you must have been leaning on the 'talk' button of your wire earlier because I heard some of your jokes."

"Good. Maybe you should take some of my advice," Lester retorted. Someone snorted. I think it was Woody.

"Advice? Santos, when was the last time you've been with a woman?" asked Hal.

"Actually, I'm with one right now, papa."

I pretended to grimace when Lester turned towards me and raised a perfectly-manscaped eyebrow.

"Bomber doesn't count," Bobby piped in. "I sure hope Bossman ain't listening in to this conversation."

"All in good fun, Brown. All in good fun." Lester chuckled and went back to texting.

"He's in Rhode Island, anyways," Tank reminded everyone. "Jimmy Scantezzi went FTA and shacked up with some broad he met at the train station. Last we heard he had high-tailed it to Providence, because he thought Ranger would never find him there."

"What a dickless sack of shit," laughed Lester, not looking up from his phone. "Scantezzi, not Ranger." Good thing he added that last part, or else I'd have gone into a graphic reminder of how non-dickless Ranger is.

"Steph, can you use your binoculars and try to see any movement coming from the windows?" Hal asked me. I immediately picked up my binoculars and leered through the cracks in the makeshift bed sheet curtains in the windows of the scummy building, squinting in the bright sunlight. No activity. The lights were on, but apparently no one was home. Didn't look like Albert Pancoast, pervert extraordinaire, would be arriving at his slum destination anytime soon.

"Sorry, nothing going on over there." I tried to reposition myself in the seat, but my sweat-dampened clothing was making it difficult to maneuver against the butter-soft leather. I noticed Lester watching me out of the corner of my eye. Well, what the hell? Had he never seen a sugar-deprived, hormone-overloaded woman before?

Ranger's new RangeMan stipulations were that I was to be off sugar completely for most of each day. The only time I was to be allowed something sweet was at ten o'clock each evening, and it was only one item of my choosing. Bastard. We all know what happens to me when I am deprived of sugar. Perhaps he did this purposely, to put me in a permanent state. A horrible thought entered my mind. _Maybe he thinks I'm gaining weight and becoming unattractive?_ I shivered at the heinous revelation and immediately pushed it out of my brain.

I had the binoculars to my eyes again so that Lester wouldn't see me misting up. I vowed to follow the no-sweets rule as best as I could and hoped that by the end of the week I'd be able to button the top snap of my jeans again.

We were on Stark Street, and the RangeMan chit-chat that was filtering into my earpiece had stopped for awhile. Still no activity from the building, and the sun was beginning to go down. Stark Street's daytime hustle and bustle gave way to pushers and hookers, who walked the streets and sidewalks in homeboy rapper pants and stiletto-heeled boots. At seven, Lester received a call on his cell from Control about an anonymous tipster who phoned in Pancoast's whereabouts. He got on the two-way to alert Tank and the rest of the guys.

"Aiight," he began, sitting up in his seat and hitting 'talk' on his two-way transmitter. "Wake up, everybody. Pancoast is headed into Newark on a train coming out of NYC. Not sure where, but they think he's outbound from Brooklyn. The train departed five minutes ago. Let's hurry up and wait." Lester leaned his seat back slightly and took his sunglasses off, placing them upside down on the back of his head.

"How long does the train take to get into Newark? And did the person say how Pancoast will be getting from the train station back to his apartment?" asked Woody.

"I don't think so," Les answered. "We have to assume he'll take a cab, since he doesn't have a vehicle."

"It could be hours!" I whined to Lester.

"Steph's whining," Lester informed the guys, smiling. "I'd like to give her something to whine about."

My stomach flip-flopped and my face felt like it had gone up in flames.

"Geez, Lester. Give away the candy store, why don't you!" I snapped, trying not to let him see me cracking a smile. I was so embarrassed that I slunk down in my seat so I couldn't be seen, even though the dark-tinted windows shielded me from view.

The night had darkened quickly, and the sun going down didn't do much to help the heat. Street traffic and sidewalk traffic had gotten heavier up and down Stark. I adjusted my two-way wire and settled in for what I hoped to be not too long of a wait. Lester fidgeted in his seat, causing the leather to make a rubbing noise.

"I'm so bored," Lester sighed. "Steph, entertain me." He turned and looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"What would you like me to do, Les?" I asked him. I couldn't keep the annoyance out of my voice. His face lit up and suddenly he was reaching behind him to pull up a black Nike duffel bag that had RangeMan embroidered on it. Probably Ella did it on her embroidery machine.

"I forgot I had this!" he exclaimed. "Surveillance survival kit." He excitedly plopped the bag on his lap and zipped it open. "We've got trashy magazines…chips…soda…MP3 players…good CDs…a Tic-Tac-Toe book…" Lester pawed through the bag until he reached the bottom. "You're not gonna believe this one, but there's a half-empty bottle of hooch in here." To prove his point, he came up with an unlabeled glass bottle of amber-colored liquid. He twisted the cap off and gave it a sniff.

"How…what…when…" I was speechless. Ranger would no doubt do some skull-busting if he caught wind of the hooch in Lester's Escalade.

"I have no clue." Lester recapped the bottle and set it between us on the center console. "I think I know who put this in here, though."

"Who?" I asked. Maybe it was Ranger, setting him up to see if he'd actually have the balls to drink on the job.

"I bet it was Tank."

"No way."

"Who cares. Should we toast?" Lester asked, grinning in the darkness of the SUV, his white teeth glowing against his dark skin.

"Are you insane? Pancoast could come around the corner and we'd be too drunk to take him down!" I couldn't believe Lester was actually thinking about drinking that hooch, but crazier things have been known to happen to him.

"Naw. Just a couple sips each. We'll be okay. The guys won't even know a thing."

Twenty minutes later, my lips were numb and warmth had spread to areas I'd rather not mention. Great. No sugar and no Ranger to quell my raging hormones. We'd each drank six fingers of the hooch (equal to two double shots) and Lester's movements were lazier and his voice was deeper. I, on the other hand, was pleasantly relaxed and willing myself not to go after Lester's leg like a dog in heat. I guess I'd never thought of him that way before. I snuck a look over to the Merry Man in the driver's seat, who was slouched with his head back on the headrest and a huge smile on his face.

His pants were baggy and his untucked shirt was tight. His boots looked like they'd stomp the shit out of anything smaller than a cat. His jet black hair was faded neatly around the sides and back, and the top stuck out in thick, tousled spikes. His eyes were chocolate brown and framed by long, thick lashes. His lips were full and slightly crooked. He smelled faintly of Aqua Di Gio and sweat. He spoke with the slightest Latino accent and used words like 'mami' and 'la loca' and other panty-creaming phrases I couldn't understand. And I, Stephanie Plum, was thinking that he looked incredibly edible. What was with these guys of Ranger's? Did they have to pass an attractiveness test or something? I hadn't noticed that my tongue had slipped out of my mouth and was resting on my bottom lip as I stared at him.

I shook myself out of the stupor I was in and concentrated on staring straight ahead at Pancoast's apartment building door. Only my eyes were swimming and my mouth was watering, thanks to Les's hooch suggestion.

"You okay, beautiful?" he asked me, his voice even deeper than it was a few minutes ago. I could only nod, and nodding felt like it used all two hundred muscles in my neck. My body felt heavy and unsatisfied.

"I'm fine," I managed to say.

"Damn, we're tipsy," Lester remarked. "I seriously hope this guy doesn't show up now." He fidgeted in his seat again.

"Why are you so fidgety?" I demanded. "Why don't you go in the backseat if you're tired of being up front?"

"I think I'll do that." Lester hauled himself over the center console, all the while giving me a view of the third best ass in Trenton (first and second belonging to Joe and Ranger, of course). I swiveled in my seat to look at him. He was in the last row of seats, a bench seat, and was sitting in the middle grinning back at me.

"Feel better?" I asked him.

"Yeah. I can stretch my legs." With that, Les stretched his long legs in front of him and put his hands behind his head. "Why don't you come back here with me?"

"One of us has to be watching for Pancoast," I pointed out. "It might as well be me, since you're already on a break." Besides, if I went back there with him I may have been tempted to straddle his lap and suck on his neck…

"Hey, I wouldn't complain," he said, his smile crooked and his eyes twinkling. I realized I'd said that out loud. I felt heat rise to my cheeks and I turned back around and shrunk into the front seat, unable to hide the shit-eating grin that was spread across my face.

"If I come back there, you have to promise no funny stuff, Santos." I was still shrunken into my seat, dying to see another part of the SUV than just the front dash.

"Scouts honor." I turned around and Lester had his right hand up in a pledge. I hauled myself across the center console and stumbled to the back of the Escalade. When I managed to flop next to Lester on the backseat, he laughed and threw his arm around my shoulders.

"We are so dead," I whispered. "If Tank and Woody and them knew…"

"Ranger would have a cow," hissed Lester. "Drunk on a stakeout, AND not even paying attention for the skip. Yeah, I'd better start applying to Broadview Security and mall rent-a-cop jobs after he fires me."

"I'm not sure what he'd do to me, but I'd hate to find out." I shivered involuntarily at the thought. Maybe I'd get lucky and he'd mail me to Prague or someplace equally as dangerous. Anything was better than being lunchmeat for his healthy snacks.

"We can still see the front door," Lester pointed out. "And it's not like we don't have an eye on things."

"Yeah," I agreed, not sure I believed we were in any kind of a form to do a takedown. Lester removed his arm from my shoulders and bent down to adjust his boots. When he righted himself, he turned to face me and chucked me lightly under the chin. Les grew somewhat serious, but still smiling slightly.

"Nena," he said. "Were you shitting me about the neck-sucking?" He slung his right arm over the top of the backseat and stared at me intensely with his beautiful eyes.

"No," I laughed, playing it off. We both knew he didn't buy it for a nanosecond. "What would Ranger think?"

"Who says Ranger has to know?" Lester asked me, his eyebrow raised.

"I'm sure he's got this thing bugged out," I said. I looked around the SUV nervously.

"No. This is MY car. It's not his to bug out." Lester shook his head.

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say.

"Well, we'll just sit here and watch for Pancoast, okay?" Lester faced forward and rested his elbows on his spread-apart knees. He took out his earpiece, rubbed his ear, and put it back in.

"Um…"

"Um…what?"

"Okay, that's a good plan." I settled next to him, my panties in a bunch because I was in such a state over him, trying not to dissipate into a puddle of mush.

Ten minutes went by and the muscular Puerto Rican next to me didn't so much as budge. His breathing was relaxed and deep. His eyes were vigilant. His mouth was set in a line. I felt like I wanted to cry for some reason. Hal had come over the wire a few times to break the tedium, but other than that our vehicle was silent.

"Les?" I said quietly.

"Yeah, beautiful?"

"I was lying about the neck-sucking."

"I know, Steph."

"I just thought you should know." I turned my head to once again face Pancoast's door. I saw Lester watching me out of the corner of his eye. I watched him watch me out of the corner of MY eye.

Without warning, Lester grabbed me by the waist and hauled me into his lap so that I was straddling his waist. I felt his response to me underneath my hips.

"I'll probably end up regretting this later on," he said. He fisted his hand in my curls and pulled my face down to his and I felt his lips lightly on mine. I got a huge rush at the minimal contact and my tipsy self-control snapped. I kissed him hungrily, sucking his full lower lip into my mouth and I heard him groan when I let it pop back out. One of his hands gripped my waist and the other held my face to his, tightly wound in my hair.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," I whispered against his luscious mouth, and even as I said it I didn't give a damn _what _kind of idea it was, good or bad. I wanted a Lester-induced orgasm, and I wanted it now.

"Not at all," he mumbled back, before drawing my lip gently into his mouth. Sweet Jesus, this man can kiss. I couldn't believe how bad I wanted him. "Open your mouth for me, baby."

I did as he asked and when his tongue touched mine I felt a deep flutter awakening in my lower half. A gush of something warm and wet dampened my panties and I wasn't sure about it, but I think I may have ruined them. He pressed me tighter against him and I could hear him suck in a ragged breath as my hands slid inside his untucked RangeMan t-shirt and rested on his rock-hard abs. I felt the muscles beneath his skin flex as he fought to keep control. His hands were on my back and he found the stupid two-way transmitter clipped there.

"No way are we going to be interrupted by these goons," he barked. He unclipped my two-way transmitter and unplugged the receiver from my ear. He did the same with his and tossed them both into the front seat, along with his sunglasses.

"I'd kill them," I breathed. I had been working at trying to take off his t-shirt and had it lifted up over his head. It was damp with sweat and I tossed it aside carelessly and feasted my eyes on the ridges and dips of his body, the light brown skin completely hairless except for his underarms, his little pink nipples hardening under my touch. He was beautiful.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice deep.

"OH yes." I took his face in my hands and bent my head to get at his neck. The flesh there was soft and smooth, completely edible, begging to be marked up. I pressed my lips gently to where his pulse raced and he twitched beneath me. I took a small fold of delicious-smelling skin between my teeth and bit and suckled it until he took my hips and slammed them down onto his hardened crotch.

"Holy fuck," he gritted out. He pulled my face to his and kissed me, slow and deep, tasting the inside of my mouth completely and rubbing his soft, hot tongue up against mine. He tasted like a combination of bourbon and bubblegum. His smooth chest was clammy with sweat and I knew he was fighting the urge to strip me and impale me. He tore my stretchy RangeMan shirt over my head and flung it up to the front of the SUV somewhere. Next went my WonderBra, which was no longer doing it's job of making me look wondrous, but Lester didn't seem to care much. I arched my back and stuck my chest in his face. He had his mouth to my nipple and I was rubbing myself on the crotch of his baggy black cargoes, aching for release, feeling the incredible tendrils of undeniable pleasure course through me and settle at Ground Zero. He switched to the other nipple and continued his nips and licks until he had me rocking involuntarily against the hardness through his pants.

"I can't…I have to come, Les," I bit out. "Seriously." Quick as a cat, he had my pants undone and was sliding them over my ass in no time. I kicked off my boots and socks and was left in nothing but a scrap of black lace that used to be clean and dry.

"You ready for this?" he asked me, his voice so deep I barely recognized it. I felt his long, thick fingers through my soaked panties, centered over the throbbing wetness, gently pushing the crotch of the panties aside. I gasped when I was exposed to the air in the SUV and his fingers were warm and soft and stroking exactly where I wanted him to be. He had his face buried in my neck and I couldn't take any more of him delaying things. I took his hand and roughly shoved two fingers inside of me, crying out from the sudden invasion. Lester's guttural moan filled the air in the SUV and things unraveled from there. He mumbled his thoughts on the condition of my vagina in my ear.

"Fuck, Stephanie…Christ, you're so tight." Lester buried his fingers in me to the hilt and I gasped again when I felt him make the 'come here' motion over my g-spot, over and over again he hit it. I was _so close_ and I knew I would go crazy when I came and I was squeezing my eyes so tight I saw spots and I felt Lester's mouth come down on mine. He kissed me deeply while his fingers did magical things, driving me insane with want for him. The spots in my eyes burst white light as I contracted around his wonderful fingers. A gush of hot liquid spilled out onto his hand and he became gentler with his strokes, drawing out my orgasm and nearly causing me to die of pleasure.

"Lose the pants, Santos," I breathed, my face sticky with sweat and afterglow. I helped him unbuckle his cargoes and slide them down, along with his boxers, and I watched him with completely lust-filled eyes as he took my tiny scrap of panties and tore it easily off me. He lifted my hips and sank me down onto him. He filled and stretched me to capacity and both of us were reduced to gentle sighs as the twin feelings of filling and being filled overtook us. I began to move, slowly at first, getting used to his size. He was hot and silky inside of me and I had to bite my lower lip to keep from screaming because the feeling was so fucking incredible. He murmured things against my neck and we became lost in each other and he couldn't take it anymore, so he began pounding up into me. I shifted my hips to take him deeper inside of me and he groaned, long and loud, sending chills up my spine and causing flecks of want and need to pool in my lower stomach.

He grazed my neck with his teeth and bit down hard, and I cried out and clutched his head as he sucked me until I was bruised. The rest was just a blur. I vaguely remember screaming his name as he kissed tears from my cheeks. I exploded again, from the inside out, quivering on the edge of release as a Lester-induced Doomsday Orgasm stole my breath and blew my brain from existence. He thrust through my contractions, setting off another round of them, and I heard his tremendous growl as emptied himself into me with my name on his lips.

"Fuck, beautiful," Lester groaned, panting and leaning his sweaty forehead against mine. "I've wanted this since I first met you."

"Really," I stated, smiling coyly. I pulled my forehead away from his and gently kissed his collarbone. He ran his hands up and down my bare back and massaged my neck a little.

"That was in-fucking-credible." Les kissed my mouth quickly before lifting me off of him and setting me down on the seat beside him. He must have missed the closeness with me because he hauled me back into his warm lap and nibbled at my lips until I opened my mouth for him.

"Mmmm," I mumbled into his mouth.

"Shit, Steph. I think we'd better get back to work," Lester said with a laugh. I nodded slowly, feeling slightly more sober. I was going to have to go commando, because Lester made rags out of my panties. I crawled around his SUV until I located my bra, cargoes, and stretchy little t-shirt. When I was dressed, I looked Lester over to make sure he was decent. He had his shirt back on and his cargoes buttoned by the time I was done dressing, so we stumbled up to the front seats and plopped down, cracking up because we were still slightly tipsy.

"Gum. We need gum," I said, frantically trying to find where Lester hid his pack of Bubblicious. I found some underneath his seat. "It'll hide the smell of the hooch."

"Good thinking, beautiful," Lester said, popping a new piece into his mouth and chewing. I tossed him his two-way and we both clipped the transmitters back to our belts and I heard someone calling my name as soon as the receiver was back in my ear. It was Tank.

"Yo! You guys okay in there?" he was saying. "Santos and Bomber, do you copy?"

"Sorry Tank, we've been having technical difficulties," I answered, settling back in my seat and giving Les a sideways smirk. He smiled back and settled into his seat.

"Okay. Is everything fine?" Tank asked, acting like he smelled a fib.

"Yep, A-ok." I stifled a giggle.

"Good. Bossman just got home and he says he'll be calling you."

"Ten-four, Pierre." I got the giggles uncontrollably and so did Lester.

"Yeah, yeah." Tank sounded mildly amused. My cell vibrated on the dashboard and I looked at the readout. Ranger.

"Yo," I said.

"Babe."

"How was your trip?"

"It was fine, but I want you and Santos in my office first thing on Monday morning. And tell him the Quaker Bridge Mall is hiring rent-a-cops."

_Yikes! _I guessed I'd be packing for Prague in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, although I wish I did – **

**Janet Evanovich does. **

Due to some readers requesting an extension to this story, I've decided to continue it and see where it takes us!! BTW, I'm a Babe but lately I've been lusting after Lester…lol! Hope you all enjoy! – Jill

* * *

Lester's POV

Steph hung up with Ranger and turned to me, smiling nervously. Her eyes were wide and she had both of her lips pressed together tightly.

"Um, Les?" she began. I immediately knew what she was gonna say. I let loose a long sigh and let my head fall back on the headrest. "He wants us in his office Monday morning at six."

"He has my truck bugged, doesn't he?" I lamented. I growled in frustration at the fact that Ranger had bested me, had gone into my personal vehicle and installed a wire. I had a sinking feeling that I should have taken the mega-bucks RangeMan Explorer that Tank had offered me, but no. I wanted my Escalade because it was bigger and more comfortable. Ranger, that sneaky fuck.

"I'm not sure, but he didn't sound…mad. He sounded almost amused." Stephanie had a weird look on her face. "Maybe it's not what we think."

"Beautiful…it's _exactly _what we think." I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel and did some more teeth gritting. I mentally began running down the list of places that would possibly be interested in hiring me after Ranger booted my ass out the RangeMan door for drinking on the job and, while drunk, sleeping with his woman. Tank suddenly came on the wire.

"Bossman says to bag the stakeout. Doesn't look like Pancoast'll be showing up anytime soon."

"Ten-four," I responded. I turned the key in the ignition and the Escalade roared to life. I immediately turned on the a/c and Stephanie adjusted the vents so that it was blowing on her full-force.

"I'll send you a postcard from Prague," she said to me.

* * *

Monday morning finally came. I hadn't spoken to Stephanie since our stakeout on Friday night. I wondered if she was thinking about me. I sure as hell was thinking about her.

I woke up on Monday morning tangled in my sheets and sporting a huge hard-on. I rubbed my face and felt serious stubble. I glanced at the clock. Five-thirty. I barely had time to shower and shave before having to report downstairs in Ranger's office at six. I decided to prioritize my morning activities and went with tackling the hard-on first.

I finished up in the shower and quickly ran my razor, and by the time I was baby's-ass-smooth, it was ten-till six and I quickly threw on a RangeMan t-shirt and a pair of clean cargoes. I jogged out of my apartment and pounded on the elevator button. After waiting a century, I was finally carried down towards my doom on the second floor of the Haywood building.

I stopped just before entering Ranger's office because I heard voices coming from inside. I recognized them as Tank's and Ranger's. Great. A tag-team termination. I wondered where Stephanie was.

"Hey," a voice from behind me said. She was standing there, her curls wild, in her RangeMan uniform and she smelled fresh from a shower. She smiled at me.

"Hey, yourself." My stomach tightened as I took her in, returning her grin. Her eyes were almost sad.

"If I don't see you anymore…" she trailed off, becoming hoarse. I nodded.

"Yeah, you too," I said, my voice cracking. I gave her a huge hug that lasted way longer than it should have. I reluctantly let her go and together we stepped into Ranger's cushy office. Tank saw us and excused himself, heading quickly down the hall and disappearing behind a bank of computer monitors.

"Santos. Babe." Ranger nodded his greeting to us and sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled together. He didn't look particularly angry. I wondered what was going on. Steph and I took seats in front of his desk and looked expectantly at Ranger. He was Corporate Ranger today, in a black dress shirt and custom-tailored black dress pants. Probably his outfit cost more than my fucking car. Stephanie spoke first, probably unable to control her mouth and panicking more than anything. Typical Steph.

"Look Ranger, I just want to say that –

He cut her off. "Babe."

I cleared my throat and Ranger looked my way. "Santos. Tell me about Friday's stakeout." Ranger raised his eyebrows expectantly at me.

"Well, it started out like normal. Just me and Steph, and Tank and Bobby, and Woody and Hal. We were parked outside of Pancoast's apartment building. I'd gotten a tip from Control that he was heading our way on a train out of Brooklyn. We sat and watched, and nothing happened." My heart was pounding and the blood rushing through my ears was deafening. I hoped Ranger couldn't see that I was visibly shaking.

"So, Pancoast never showed up?" Ranger's eyebrows were raised again and the hint of a smile came across his mouth.

"No, sir." I glanced at Stephanie, and she looked pale and ready to bolt out of the office any second.

"Why do you think he never showed?" Ranger asked quietly.

"I'm not sure. Maybe his train was delayed?" I suggested, praying that Ranger's outrageous game of Twenty Questions would end before I died in front of his desk from a massive heart attack.

"Nope. It was because you were watching the wrong apartment building." Ranger's almost-smile disappeared as he reached forward and slammed a folder in front of me. "Is this the kind of intelligence that I should expect from you, Santos?"

My stomach sank. Shit, I never would have _ever _thought that was the reason he pulled us in his office. I thought the truck was bugged and one of the guys somehow saw Steph and I chugging hooch like it was water. I glanced at Stephanie again. The color had returned to her face and she was trying to hide a smile.

"Sorry, boss," I mumbled to Ranger. "I received the location of Pancoast's residence from my field research on him. I performed several background searches and came up with the Stark Street address."

"Well you got the address right, but you were parked at the wrong building. Pancoast's building is on the other side of the street."

"Why did you wait until now to tell us this?" I asked Ranger.

"I wanted to make your weekend a living hell." Well, the asshole succeeded.

Stephanie was visibly shaking with laughter. Ranger glared at her and she immediately went still.

"I would have expected this kind of idiocy from Stephanie, but not you, Santos. You're one of my most highly-skilled employees. Get it together. Tomorrow you will all go back to the _correct _building and wait for him to return from work. I've already spoken to the rest of the men." Ranger looked down at his desk where there was a folder and he began writing notes in it.

"Excuse me? Idiocy?" Stephanie slammed a hand on Ranger's desk right by where he was writing.

"Babe. We all know that when it comes to stuff like this, you don't have the skills needed to accurately pursue a skip. You rely mostly on luck and Lula." Ranger smirked at her. Her face reddened and I thought for a second that I saw her ears smoking. Yowza. Approaching Danger Zone. I figured I was done being yelled at, so I rose from my chair and tiptoed towards the door.

"Am I done, or…" I pointed towards the door. Stephanie and Ranger both glared at me.

"OUT!" they yelled in unison. I booked down the hall and jumped when I heard Ranger's office door slam shut.

I was so relieved to still have my job that I practically salsa-danced into the monitor room. No Quaker Bridge Mall cop for me! I stopped short when I saw Tank glaring at me from across the bank of monitors.

"Santos," he barked. "You had us out there in ninety-degree heat watching the wrong damn door. If you weren't one of my best friends I'd swear I'd neuter you myself."

"Tank, man, I'm sorry about all that. I screwed up, what can I say?" I flopped into a big leather desk chair in front of my assigned bank of monitors.

"Now, we have to go back out tomorrow and sit in the sweltering misery again, waiting to chase down a depressed porn pervert. Thanks to you." Tank gave me a murderous look and turned back around to face his monitors.

"Are you on monitor duty this week?" I asked him, putting on my headset and adjusting a couple of the monitors so that the overhead lights didn't make a glare on the screens.

"I'm in for Binkie today." Tank rocked back in his chair and continued to stare at his screens. I didn't know what else to say to Tank, so I settled into my chair for a long morning of doing pretty much nothing and getting paid boo-koo bucks to do it.

I'd been sitting there for about fifteen minutes when I caught a flash of brown curls on the monitor to my left. I spotted Stephanie hurrying down the hall away from Ranger's office, her arms crossed and her head down. I switched on the sound to the camera that was recording her, but all I could hear was her booted footsteps heading toward where I was sitting. I looked up from the monitors and saw her come into view. She passed me quickly but her face was red and puffy and I could tell that she'd been crying. _What the hell had happened in Ranger's office?_ I wondered to myself.

I sat in front the monitors for what seemed like hours, watching vigilantly, listening in to what I needed to be heard. At noon, I got up and stretched. I felt my stomach rumble and realized that I ran out of my apartment without breakfast this morning. I saw Hal enter the monitor room and he headed over to me.

"Hey, man, sorry about Friday," I told him, doing the guy-complicated-handshake thing with him. Hal was such a cool guy that I knew he wouldn't give me slack for the screw-up.

"No dawg, it was an honest mistake. We're tight." Hal clapped me on the back and flopped into my monitor-watching chair.

"Thanks, man. You relieving me so I can get some food?" I asked him.

"Yep. Go get your shit, man." Hal nodded towards the hall. I punched him lightly on the arm and headed toward the kitchen.

I had a foot-long turkey sandwich and an iced tea in my hand, ready to sit down, when I saw Stephanie skulk into the lunchroom and plop into a table in the corner. She had a chef's salad in front of her and she appeared to be turning her nose up at it. Probably wishing it had chunks of Butterscotch Krimpets in it, or some other sort of partially-hydrogenated, trans-fat-loaded junk food.

I immediately took my lunch over to where she sat and took the seat across from her. Her face wasn't so puffy and red anymore, and she looked a lot better than she did after exiting Bossman's office.

"Hey, beautiful," I said quietly, looking at her intensely. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. No. I don't know," she sighed. She loaded her salad with what had to be blue cheese dressing and dug in.

"Ranger bein' a cock?" I asked, smiling. She half-heartedly returned my smile and looked down at her salad.

"I guess you could say that."

"Yeah, well, that was kinda mean what he said to you today."

"You think?" Steph asked me, incredulous. "Geez, Lester. You'd think he'd give me at least a little bit of praise. I mean, come on! I almost _always _get my skips."

I thought she was so damn sexy when she was mad. "Yeah, I feel you." I took a bite of my sandwich and rinsed it down with some tea. "Hey. For what it's worth, I think you do a kick-ass job both here AND working for Vinnie." I grinned at her and watched as she blushed furiously.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." I ate some more of my sandwich and watched while she grimaced at her salad.

"Needs croutons fried in butter, fattier bacon, and more eggs," Steph said sheepishly.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Five o'clock came and I thought I'd never survive monitor duty. Thank the good Lord that it was only for today, and Cal would return tomorrow. I needed to blow off some steam. I'd been cramped behind a bank of monitors for almost ten hours. I don't know how the guys do it. If I weren't out on the field, doing things, I'd turn into rotted flesh, wasting away. I peaced-out Tank and headed to my apartment so I could change into workout clothes.

I threw on a black tank top and baggy silver basketball shorts, laced on my black Shoxx, and stuck a White Sox hat on backwards. I grabbed my iPod and my keys, and hit the RangeMan gym on the first floor.

When I got there, Woody was at the bench press and Erik was over at the free weights. I nodded hello to them and tossed my keys on one of the mats, deciding to begin my steam-blowing-off with a little cardio. I hooked myself up to my iPod and started off at a slow jog. Five minutes later, I kicked it up a notch to a light run. I was running, lost in the musical stylings of Wisin & Yandel, when I saw movement on the treadmill next to me out of the corner of my eye.

Christ, it was Stephanie. I almost tripped. She was no doubt feeling guilty about the amount of blue cheese dressing she'd consumed today. She reached over to me and pinched my side lightly in greeting and began at a fast-paced walk. I took off my iPod and dropped my run down to a walk.

"Feeling guilty?" I asked her. She nodded. I saw her eyes dart quickly over my sweaty body and darken slightly. She was dressed in a blue sports bra and matching blue shorts. Her thick brown curls were pulled back in a ponytail and she had a towel and a bottle of water sitting on the treadmill's control panel.

"I guess so. I'm still off the sugar, though." She made a face.

"What's up with you and Ranger?" I asked. "He mad at you?"

"I honestly don't know. We aren't a couple, if that's what you mean. It's complicated." She sighed.

"Yeah. I could imagine," I replied. She looked deep in thought, so I stepped it back up to a run and left her alone to think.

When I finished my run, I headed over to the now-empty free weights and did some repetitions. Steph was still on the treadmill, watching me but pretending not to. I only knew that because I was watching HER, pretending not to.

"Santos," Ranger barked from behind me. I jumped out of my skin and nearly dropped a twenty-five pound weight on my damn foot.

"What's up?" I asked him. He had obviously just come down from his office because instead of wearing workout clothes, he was still dressed as scary GQ dude.

"We got another lead on Pancoast. He works at the steel mill on Rowling Street. He usually does the noon to nine shifts there. He'll return to his apartment after work. Get your team together. Make sure you have the correct building this time." Ranger smirked and headed out of the gym.

"Yes, sir," I said, but he was already gone. _Damn!_ He scared the shit out of me just now. I bagged the weight lifting and headed into the locker room to cool off. The locker room was dark and quiet, so I took advantage of the situation and stood in front of the sink with my face under the cold water tap. Sneakered footsteps sounded behind me. I quickly shut off the water and grabbed for a towel to dry off with. When I opened my eyes, Stephanie was standing next to me, looking quite overheated and exhausted from being on the treadmill.

"Hey," I said to her. She smiled.

"Hey."

"You done for the day?"

"Yeah…I was hoping to talk to you."

"Sure, beautiful." I straddled one of the benches and motioned for her to join me. She sat directly in front of me, her legs on either side of the narrow wooden bench. I leaned my elbows on my knees and waited for her to begin.

"About Friday," she started. I interrupted her, figuring I knew where she was going with this.

"Listen, it's okay. I understand. You and Ranger have some complicated thing going on. I don't want to get in the middle of it. You're one of my best friends, Steph. I just want you to be happy." I lightly punched her shoulder in a "friends" kind of way.

"Um, that's not what I was going to say at all." She raised her eyebrow. My stomach flip flopped in terror. She probably told Ranger what happened, and once again I'd be on the lookout for mall-cop jobs…

"No?" I asked nervously.

"No. I wanted to tell you that I seriously haven't stopped thinking about it, and that what happened between us on Friday was amazing." She blushed and kept her eyebrow raised.

"Shit," I said, laughing. "I thought you were gonna tell me that it was wrong and that you told Ranger and I'd be leaving on a one-way flight to Antarctica, or something."

"No way." Stephanie licked her lips. "It's not like that."

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked her, dropping my voice down to a mumble. She nodded eagerly, scooting closer to me so that our knees were touching. "I feel the same way."

"Seriously?" she whispered, her big blue eyes wide with incredulousness. I nodded, taking her hands and pulling her closer to me. I played with her fingers for a few seconds before realizing that it was very possible that we could be on camera. I quickly pulled away from her and looked around nervously. I couldn't remember if crazy Ranger had a camera set up in the locker room.

"I know what you're looking for, and I'm next to positive that he doesn't have one in here." Stephanie's eyes were shining and she was grinning stupidly. "Besides, it's dark and they wouldn't be able to see much."

"Damn, what a relief." I pulled her back to me and drew her face to me, touching her lips softly with mine and she exhaled long and slow. She reached out and put her arms around my waist while I deepened the kiss, our tongues touching, Steph sighing into my mouth as I moved to lift up the elastic hem of her sports bra.

The locker room door was thrown open and a figure filled the doorway, lit only by the dim light filtering in from the gym. Stephanie and I jumped apart.

"Shit," I hissed.

**To be continued…who has just caught Steph and Lester? Yikes! Please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! I look forward to reading your thoughts and input about my story! – Jill **

**PS – I'm thinking about changing the story's name to something less cheesy. If anyone could help me come up with something good, please let me know. I'd really appreciate it!**

Stephanie's POV

The locker room light snapped on and Ella stood in the doorway, holding a stack of clean white gym towels. Her face reddened and her mouth was agape, thoroughly embarrassed by what she had just walked in on.

"M-miss Plum, Mr. Santos. I'm awfully s-sorry…" Ella stammered. "Please excuse me." She hurried over to the cart that held the clean towels and placed the stack she was holding onto an empty shelf. Head down, she hurried back over to the locker room door, pulling it shut quietly behind her.

"We're lucky it was Ella," Lester said with a sigh. I, on the other hand, felt like a hopeless slut making her way through the RangeMan team. From Ella's perspective, this looked pretty bad.

"Shit," I said. "I know she won't say anything, but I can't help feeling a little weird about her seeing us. I mean, she knows I've spent the night up on seven _many _times."

"Yeah, but most of those times were when Ranger was away, or when you needed a safe place to stay for the night. It doesn't mean that you and Ranger were having sex." Lester furrowed his brow.

"True, but I feel like I owe her an explanation for this."

"Well, if that's how you feel," Les replied. "She knows that you're not his girlfriend." I rose up from the bench and Lester stood with me.

"Look, Steph. We don't have to do this." He peered into my eyes seriously.

"Do what?" I asked, knowing full-well what "this" was.

"You know…this." He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me flush against his heated body, causing my breath to hitch as he lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a sweet, gentle kiss.

"I know, but for some reason I want to," I whispered. I was shocked by my own answer because not only did I lust after Ranger, but now I had to add Lester to my naughty list. Lester released me from his arms and I grabbed my water bottle. I tossed my towel into the hamper and took off for the fourth floor to find Ella, leaving Lester grinning foolishly in the locker room.

* * *

I found Ella outside of Tank's apartment door with her laundry basket, getting ready to knock. She saw me barreling down the hall and looked startled when I skidded to a stop in front of her.

"Miss Plum, are you all right?" she asked, eyes wide. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down and nodded.

"I'm fine. I just wanted to talk to you about what happened in the locker room," I told her. Ella motioned for me to follow her to another part of the hallway, away from Tank's door. She set her laundry basket onto the floor and looked at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised in silent question.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking. I guess I just want to tell you that I'm not…making my way through the RangeMan team. I don't want you to have that opinion of me, and –

Ella cut me off and held her hand up. She smiled. "Miss Plum, you do not have to explain yourself to me. I think no different of you because you have an interest in Mr. Santos. Believe me, he is an outstanding young man, so respectful and so extremely handsome. He reminds me of my husband, when we were young newlyweds living en la Republica Dominicana."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure how I'm feeling right now. I was sort of afraid that I couldn't trust you, since you are the only one who seems to know about this." My heart was skipping around in my chest and my face was on fire.

"What you have with Mr. Manoso appears to be a business relationship, but what goes on while you are staying on the seventh floor is absolutely in no way any of my business. I am here to make sure you and all of the gentlemen in this building have what you need as far as food and clean linens, but that is all. I'm not here to pass judgment." Ella smiled warmly at me, and I instantly relaxed.

"Oh, thank you so much, Ella." I returned her smile and felt as though a huge weight was lifted.

"Miss Plum, you are an extraordinary young woman. I have never met anyone with such vivacity for life. I find you refreshing and quite exquisite. I trust that you will make a sound decision regarding your future with either one of these gentlemen, but I should tell you one thing." Ella grew serious, which made me feel uneasy again.

"What is it?" I asked gingerly.

"Please, Mr. Manoso can be a very dangerous man. If you choose to pursue Mr. Santos as a love interest, I hope that you would have made sure that Mr. Manoso is aware of this and gives his consent for this matter. After all, Mr. Santos and you are both employees of his company and your relationship with Mr. Manoso isn't quite defined."

"Well, I'm a sometimes-employee…" I trailed off, immediately thinking that it was irrelevant to the situation.

"Still, you are an employee nonetheless. I don't mean to alarm you by any of this, but please take it all into consideration." Ella reached down to pick up her laundry basket and when she rose, she smiled warmly at me again and patted my hand. "You can confide in me, Miss Plum. I do hope that you know you can talk to me anytime about whatever matter that concerns you."

"Thank you," I said to her. "I'd better be going now." I smiled and took off down the hall, letting Ella's heavily-accented words of advice roll over me, confident with our conversation.

I reached the RangeMan garage and looked around for my car, hoping that the car fairies had left a shiny red Infiniti SUV in my numbered parking space. My heart sank as I realized that the car fairies couldn't get past the RangeMan garage security. I halfheartedly opened the door to the Buick, cranked the engine over, and motored out of the garage.

I swung the behemoth Buick into my lot and hit the brakes when I pulled into a spot near the Dumpster. The good spots were, of course, taken by the resident senior citizens who liked to go to bed early with their military-issue machine guns and Tech-9s tucked safely under their orthopedic pillows. I hiked up to my apartment and kicked the door open. The light was blinking on my answering machine. I hit the button and listened to the messages while I concocted a peanut butter and green olive sandwich. To hell with Ranger's wacko no-sugar plan.

"Stephanie Plum! I hope you're coming to dinner tomorrow night. I've made a nice pork roast. And bring Joseph. Your sister and the kids and…Mr. Kloughn…will be here." _Beep._

The next message was a heavy breather. Same with the last one. I sighed and crammed half of the sandwich into my mouth. It seemed like I couldn't catch a break. I was invited to dinner at my parents' house frequently. It was a three-ring circus most evenings, what with Kloughn and my sister and the girls. Not to mention Grandma Mazur. Last time we were there she nearly took out the chandelier while showing her date, ninety-one year-old Sol Lipschitz, her .45 long barrel.

I still haven't told my parents that Joe and I haven't dated for over four months. My mother keeps inviting him to dinner, and my excuses for him not being there are getting lamer and lamer. Sooner or later I'll tell her, but I'll just put it off for next week. I've also been saying THAT for awhile, too.

I was feeding Rex a grape when my cell phone jingled from inside my shoulder bag. I looked at the readout. Lester. My stomach fluttered and I suddenly broke out into a sweat.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beautiful," came Les's gravelly voice from the other end of the line.

"Hi," I said, smiling like a schoolgirl. Damn, what is _with _me lately?

"Is everything cool with Ella?" he asked. "I assumed you went to go find her after you ran out of the locker room."

"Of course," I replied. "She'll keep it quiet."

"That's good," Lester said. "Um, I was wondering if you wanna hang out on Friday night. Like, a date…sort of. If you want."

"Yeah, I'd like that." I felt myself blush.

"Okay," Lester said. "I know a great place in Palm Beach." I laughed.

"I'm sure it'd be okay if we stayed in Trenton," I told him. "Or why don't you just come over? We can order Chinese and watch a movie or something."

"Even better." Lester chuckled. "See you tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm working for Vinnie in the morning and I'm going with you guys on the stakeout for Pancoast in the evening. So yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, beautiful."

"'Night, Les." I hung up and took a shower. When I was clean, I carted a box of Double-Stuf Oreos and a glass of milk to my bedroom and vegged out on MTV until I fell asleep.

* * *

My alarm clock rudely awakened me at an ungodly hour once again, and I rolled out of bed at ten after eight. I threw on a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a Van Halen t-shirt, and my running shoes, just in case I had to chase down desperados all day. I tamed my hair into somewhat frizz-less curls and layered on the eyeliner and mascara.

When I had my face properly slutted up, I fed Rex a couple of beer nuts and a raisin, brushed my teeth, and slunk down to the parking lot to the Buick. There was a Post-It note attached to my driver's side window. It read a single word: _Babe_. No mystery on who the note was from. I was still a little sore from his words yesterday, so I wasn't in the best of moods to face him. Then there was this…thing…with Lester. I wondered what Ranger had up his sleeve. As if he could fit anything up his sleeve; his shirts were so tight they looked like they were part of his skin.

I banged my way into the Buick and roared off down St. James toward Hamilton, to the bonds office. Lula was prancing around in the office in front of Connie's desk when I swung through the glass door. She was wearing uncomfortable-looking heels, a leopard-print skin-tight dress, and her hair was orange.

"You're just jealous because you're not full-figured like me," she was saying to Connie. "I'd probably get a lot of plus-size modeling jobs, on account of I'm so photogenic."

"I'll bet," Connie remarked dryly. She looked up and saw me in the doorway. "Thank God."

"What am I missing?" I asked, sidling up to Connie's desk and checking out the In-Box. Two folders in there.

"You're missing my fashion show, that's what." Lula marched over to her leopard-print purse and slung it over her arm to model it.

"Anything else I should know about?" I asked Connie.

"Joe Morelli took Joyce Barnhardt to dinner at Rossini's last night."

"Well, he'd better be careful that he doesn't catch Joyce's herpes." I shivered involuntarily.

"As far as skips go, Turner Buckingham and Scooter McBallister. Both went FTA and are wanted for multiple counts of armed robbery and destruction of private property." Connie handed me the two folders.

"What kind of private property did they destroy?" I asked her.

"You're gonna love this one," Lula laughed, holding her sides and bending over.

"Well, Buckingham pooped on his neighbor's front porch and McBallister smashed the same neighbor's bedroom window with a torque wrench." Connie cracked up.

"Then they robbed them?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, they tried."

"Dear God, help me." I was glad I left my .38 in the cookie jar this morning. I was afraid I'd shoot these two goons just for the hell of it. "You riding shotgun?" I asked Lula.

"Hell yeah. Like I'd miss seeing you try to dodge that torque wrench of McBallister's." Lula gathered up her jungle purse and headed out the office door, leaving me to follow.

"Okay, no skull-busting," I warned Lula once we had motored away from the bonds office.

"Who, me?"

"What have you got in that leopard purse?" I asked her.

"Lipstick, cuffs, bludgeoning flashlight, stun gun, hair comb, eye shadow, assault rifle, and tear gas."

"The cuffs and the stun gun can stay, but I'm going to have to ask that you leave the assault rifle and tear gas in the Buick."

"No way! This here gun is my baby." She patted her purse fondly. "Ain't nobody gonna make me leave him behind."

"Then I'm going to have to drop you back off at the bonds office."

"Fine, fine." Lula removed the assault rifle and the tear gas from her leopard valise and stashed them under the Buick's bench seat. "You're gonna wish I had this tear gas, though."

"Doubtful, but whatever." I squinted ahead to see the house numbers. We were in a working class neighborhood outside of the Burg, not too far from Stark Street down by the river.

"Look for number sixty-three," I instructed Lula.

"I'll sixty-three your skinny ass into the ground," she said. "I'm quick at finding addresses. In my former profession as a 'ho, I could find those tricks' houses blindfolded." She squinted to the right and I squinted to the left.

"Odd numbers are on my side," I told her. "And it's this one right here." I pulled to a stop in front of a brown-shingled rowhouse that closely resembled a crack den. Windows were busted out and replaced with plywood. Sheets hung in the windows that were still intact. The front stoop looked battered and the porch eave hung down crookedly.

"Looks like old McBallister ain't doin' too well," remarked Lula. We hauled ourselves out of the Buick and puffed ourselves up before marching up the front path like we owned the place. I knocked on the door with my pepper spray in hand, just in case I caught a glimpse of the torque wrench.

"Who is it?" an old man's voice said through the open screen door.

"It's Stephanie Plum. Mr. McBallister?" I asked.

"Whaddya want?"

"I'm with the Vincent Plum agency and I'm here to take you downtown to reschedule the court date that you missed yesterday."

"Oh, yeah? Well, good luck tryin' to get me out of this chair, girlie." He was slurring his words and sounded very tired.

I glanced nervously at Lula, who was trying to peek through the screen on the door to get a better look at McBallister.

"Can I come in?" I asked him.

"Sure, come on in." I cautiously pushed the screen door open and saw Scooter McBallister seated in a threadbare recliner. He was older than I thought, overweight, and definitely fit the profile of someone who'd get violent with a torque wrench. He smelled like dead animal and had cigar ashes sprinkled all over the front of his yellowed t-shirt.

"I'd like to go downtown with ya, but I'm having some back problems." McBallister chortled and cigar ashes sprinkled from his overgrown beard onto his shirt. "Let me get something, hold on." He reached down into the recliner and came up with something silver and heavy-looking. _Shit,_ I thought. _The torque wrench!_ I'd no sooner ducked and pulled Lula with me when McBallister heaved the wrench in our direction, missing us by a mile. Lula immediately pulled out her stun gun and held it to McBallister's fat leg. He gave a squeak and slumped in his chair.

Lula was breathing hard and I don't think I was breathing at ALL.

"Well, that settles that." Lula got up on her feet and yanked me with her. "How do we get him out to the Buick? He's way too heavy for both of us to lift. Plus, he smells real bad."

I sighed, knowing that there was only one person to call who could help us. And it just so happens that I wasn't in the mood to face him.

"Yo."

"Babe."

"Big talker today, huh?" I said to him, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I'm assuming you've caught Mr. McBallister and need some help loading him into your car."

"How did you…nevermind. Yes, I could use some help."

"I'll send Tank."

"No, wait –

But Ranger had already hung up. I stuck my phone back into my pocket and turned towards Lula. "Tank will be over."

"Boy, am I glad I've got this hot little number on today. My Tankie hasn't seen me in it yet."

Unfortunately for Tank, it may be the last thing he sees before losing his vision completely.

* * *

I slogged into my apartment at seven-ten, hoping to clean up a bit in the shower before spending the next six hours in close quarters with Lester Santos. I wasn't hoping for a repeat performance of last Friday, but a girl had to be prepared for anything.

When I was shaved, conditioned, and scrubbed, I located a stretchy black RangeMan t-shirt and clean black cargoes. I threw them on, but not before I threw on lacy red panties and a matching bra. Hey, prepared is prepared, people.

I laced up my combat boots and grabbed my shoulder bag that contained all of my various takedown goodies. At ten minutes to eight, I was heading toward RangeMan. I roared into the Haywood garage and gave a little finger wave to Erik, who was manning the cameras. I strutted into the building and headed up to the second floor to the conference room.

Hal and Woody, Tank and Bobby, and Ranger and Lester were all seated around the big oak conference table when I arrived. I quickly took a seat next to Woody and looked expectantly at Ranger.

"Okay, let's try this apprehension again, gentlemen…and Steph. Pancoast usually gets a ride home from his coworker at the steel mill, Jim Buttons. Buttons drives a ten-year-old maroon Cutlass. Look for it. Now, it's pretty hot outside. Thank Santos for that."

Several grunts and dirty looks were thrown at Lester, who was shielding himself with his arms. I was sitting across from him and got a minor hot flash when he smiled and winked at me.

"Everybody wire up and head out. I'll be in touch." Ranger stayed seated at the conference table and the rest of the guys headed out of the conference room, arguing about God-knows-what, smacking each other on the heads as they left. I lagged behind and scooted my chair closer to Ranger.

"Did you leave a note on my car this morning?" I asked him. His head bobbed so slightly that I barely noticed it.

"I just wanted to make sure you got into your apartment okay. I saw you leaving the building late last night."

"I stayed to chat with Ella," I said lightly, not wanting to go into any more details than that. I'd deal with Ranger and the whole Lester thing at a later time. Ranger nodded and he leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday, Steph," he said softly. "I know I hurt your feelings, and I couldn't feel worse about the things I said to you while we were in my office. I think you do a great job here at RangeMan and with Vinnie."

I'd hardly ever heard Batman use so many words in one sentence. I appreciated his apology and I let him know that I did.

"Ranger, I know that sometimes I suck at this job. But you have to know how much it means to me."

"I know, Babe. How can I make it up to you?" Ranger kissed me at my hairline and tugged on my ponytail.

"You can…let me eat more sweets."

"Done."

"Really?"

"Yes. Just don't overdo it."

"I promise I won't." I grinned as Ranger leaned over and lightly brushed his lips over mine. I got a small rush at the contact and he pulled away, leaving me slightly breathless.

"Go ahead with the guys. Santos is probably waiting on you to ride with him." Ranger nudged me and I hopped up from my seat. Geez, I really was a hopeless slut.

* * *

"Mic check," Lester said into his two-way. I heard a round of "checks" and "heres" from the Merry Men as we got ready to leave the RangeMan garage. "Aiight, let's roll." He shifted the Escalade into Drive and led the caravan of pricey black SUVs out of the garage and down the street, approaching center city.

"This again," I muttered under my breath.

"Um, if I remember correctly you had a _blast _on the last stakeout," Lester teased me. "Or should I say, an "orgasmic" time?"

"Yes, that part was good. But the sweltering heat and the waiting?" I whined.

"Only one way to cure that, baby."

"I'm not getting drunk with you again," I told him.

"No. That's not what I was going to say." Lester gave me a sideways smile and tapped the center console. "Look in there."

I flipped open the center console and located two battery-operated fans. "Man, you rock!" I said to Lester.

"I know." He chuckled lightly and put his blinker on. We headed toward Stark Street, approaching the river. When we neared our destination, Lester cut the headlights and rolled to a quiet stop in front of yet another dilapidated apartment building. Tank and Bobby stopped a few spots over from us to our left, and Hal and Woody stopped to our right. They cut their engines and headlights.

"Santos," Tank barked. "You sure this is the right location this time?"

"Ten-four, Captain Kirk. Forty-three ten Stark Street." Lester double checked the numbers on the building in front of us to be sure.

"It's quarter to nine, hopefully he won't keep us waiting too long." Hal sounded anxious over the wire.

"Hal, can you see me waving at you?" I asked Hal, waving to him and Woody through the dark tinted glass of my passenger's window.

"Nope."

"How about you, Tank?"

"Nope."

With that being said, I reached across the center console and grabbed Lester's face, pulling it to mine and kissing him hungrily.

"Damn beautiful, what's gotten into you?" Lester mumbled against my lips. He had his right hand tangled in my hair and his left hand was gripping the Escalade's steering wheel with white knuckles.

"Nothing. I just wanted to do that." I couldn't believe how forward I was with Lester. It felt incredible to be in the driver's seat for a change. I enjoyed driving him crazy. He nibbled on my earlobe and I think I might have moaned, but I couldn't be sure over the sound of blood rushing through my ears.

"Are you thinking about this Friday?" he asked me, mapping a trail of kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I barely stifled a squeal as his soft, full lips grazed my pulse point.

"Yes."

"Me, too. Fuck, and it's only Tuesday!"

"So you're coming over later on tonight then?" I asked him seductively.

"I _so_ am." Lester sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, causing me to squirm in my seat. "We'd better be careful or we'll end up in the backseat again."

"Would that be so bad?" I smiled against his lips as he brushed back a few tendrils of curls that had escaped my ponytail and were framing my face.

"Hell no, loca! But I can't risk screwing up this shit again, you know, with Pancoast. Ranger'll beat my ass."

"And mine," I pointed out.

"No, he won't beat yours. But he might mail you to a Venezuelan jungle."

I shivered involuntarily at the thought. Lester kissed me one last time and I sat back in my seat, wondering about our "date" on Friday and wondering when stupid pervert Pancoast would show up at his shack.

My thoughts were interrupted by a catchy tune jingling from Lester's iPhone, which was resting on the dash of the Escalade. He looked at the readout and smiled before answering the call.

"Hey, you…nothing, just sitting on a stakeout, waiting for some dingbat to show up…how was work…oh, they made you do _that _today…that sucks…um, Friday?" He glanced in my direction. "No, Friday's not good…how about Saturday…okay, fine…wear something nice...sure, mami…see you then." He disconnected the call and placed his phone back on the dash.

"Sorry 'bout that," Lester said. He reached into the center console and pulled out the fans. "Want one?" I nodded vaguely and couldn't feel my tongue.

I'm not the jealous type, but it was clear that Les was talking to a woman. He'd called her sweetheart in Spanish, for crying out loud! I know that we weren't exclusive, but still. I felt sluttier than ever and hollow inside. How could I expect that such a gorgeous piece of man would not be seeing anyone? I felt horrible and naive.

"Um, I didn't know you had a girlfriend," I said to Lester. He gave me a weird look for a second, but then shrugged.

"Well…"

**To be continued…who was Lester talking to? You'll find out soon enough! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! I hope I still have time to write because after today, I will start school to further my nursing education. But I look forward to finding time to update my stories, so don't worry! ****- Jill**

_I'm not the jealous type, but it was clear that Les was talking to a woman. He'd called her sweetheart in Spanish, for crying out loud! I know that we weren't exclusive, but still. I felt sluttier than ever and hollow inside. How could I expect that such a gorgeous piece of man would not be seeing anyone? I felt horrible and naive._

"_Um, I didn't know you had a girlfriend," I said to Lester. He gave me a weird look for a second, but then shrugged._

"_Well…"_

* * *

"Well what?" Steph asked me.

"Unless you count my sister as my girlfriend." I smirked at her and continued to look straight ahead at Pancoast's door, brandishing my fan in front of my face.

"Your _sister_? Which one?"

"Yeah, my sister Damaris. You've only met Candice. It's Damaris's twenty-fourth birthday on Thursday, and my brother-in-law Manny and I are supposed to be taking her out this weekend."

"Christ," she laughed.

"What, you thought I had a girlfriend?" I asked.

"It sounded that way." Steph fidgeted in the leather seat.

"Maybe I do have one," I teased.

"Well, then I'd have to –

"I'm kidding," I said, punching her lightly in the shoulder. I hauled her over the center console and she wrapped her arms around my neck. "I think you should come out with us on Saturday."

"Think so?" she said, raising her eyebrows. She dropped a sweet, soft kiss on my mouth.

"Yeah, I do." I drew her earlobe into my mouth and nibbled slightly, drawing a moan out of her.

"Okay."

"Just like that, you say okay? What, no, 'I have to get my hair done, and get the perfect outfit!'?" I was awestruck. I thought I'd have to _beg_ her to go with us.

"Well, of course I'll have to do all of those things," she pointed out. "But yeah, I'll go."

"You can be my date."

"So, a date on Friday AND a date on Saturday? Boy, Santos, RangeMan must pay _really_ well."

"Eh, so-so." I smiled against her neck and pretended to bite her. Steph groaned as my fingers inched their way down to the fly of her cargoes. The grip she had on my shoulders changed as she took a deep breath in and held it. I slipped the button from its hole and my hand disappeared into her pants, brushing along the soft fabric of…lace? Dios _mio. _

Static crackled over the wire and Hal's muffled voice filtered into my right ear.

"Sxzeouchs," was all I could make out. Growling in frustration, I settled Steph back into the passenger's seat and reached behind me to mess with the two-way transmitter box. Steph immediately located her binoculars and had them trained on a dark red boxy-looking vehicle that was parked several buildings down to the left of us. I adjusted the radio frequency of my two-way and hit Talk.

"Can I get a repeat on that?" I asked Hal.

"All I said was 'Santos'," Hal said. "I wanted to get your attention about the dark red car parked on the corner of Stark and Grandview."

"Steph's got her binoculars on it." I found my night-vision goggles and tried to get positive ID on the make and model of the vehicle.

"Does it look like a Cutlass?" Steph asked me.

"Could be." I squinted into the night-vision goggles and sure enough, the word _Oldsmobile _was visible on the side in tiny lettering. I got on the two-way. "It's a maroon Oldsmobile Cutlass."

"Ten-four," replied Tank.

"Roger that." I yanked Stephanie's binoculars out of her hands and stuck them up to the glass of my driver's side window. It didn't take me long to make a positive ID on our pervert, Albert Pancoast.

"Anything?" Steph asked.

"That's him," I muttered to her. "That's Pancoast, that pencil-dick –

Tank interrupted me. "Santos, is it him or not?" He sounded like he was sitting at the edge of his fucking seat.

"I'm ninety-nine percent sure," I answered. "That's him, all right." Through the binoculars, I watched Pancoast lurch out of the Cutlass and pull a black ball cap down over his face. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his work pants, said something to the driver of the Cutlass, and took off in our direction towards his apartment building.

"Let's do this," I spoke into the mic. I chambered a round in my Sig Sauer P229 Equinox and shoved it into the waist of my jeans. Steph did the same with her S & W .38, but she paused and removed the gun from her pants.

"I'm afraid I'll shoot myself," she said, by way of explanation. I had nothing even close to a comment to say back to that, so I launched myself out of the Escalade and met her around the back of the truck.

"This is what's gonna go down," I told her quietly. You distract him, ruffle some feathers. When you've got him good and slicked up, say the words "sure thing!" and me and the guys'll tackle him from behind. Discreetly keep your hand on the Talk button so we can hear what you're saying. Got it?" It seemed like such a simple process, but believe me, strange things were known to happen when I did a takedown with Ms. Stephanie Michelle Plum.

Steph nodded solemnly. I could tell she wasn't thrilled about being used as bait again for us, but unfortunately we had no other choice, except to come right out and jump on him and risk him either getting away or us getting _blown _away. Pancoast was known to carry.

I got on the mic to give the guys a rundown of the takedown, since this was MY operation and Ranger expected me to see things through to the end on this one. Another screw-up would mean the demise of my career at RangeMan, and the Quaker Bridge Mall would have a new addition to their rent-a-cop team. I wondered if I'd get to ride around on a Segway, like Paul Blart.

The guys agreed to the plan and I saw them slip quietly out of their SUVs. Pancoast was oblivious in the dark, heading toward his building with his head down. When I felt the timing was right, I nudged Stephanie and she popped out in front of him on the sidewalk, nearly scaring him to death. Tank, Hal, Woody, and Bobby slunk along behind Pancoast, keeping a good distance but also keeping him in their direct view.

"Hi," she was saying. "I'm sorry to trouble you, sir, but I've lost my cellular phone and I think it's around here in these bushes. Either that, or my pet tiger must have eaten it."

I nearly got a hernia from holding in my laughter. If Pancoast believed her, he was a fucking idiot. She must have been more charming to him that I thought.

"Sorry about that," he cooed. "I'll help you look for it." With that, he dropped to his knees and stuck his face into the bushes. Stephanie got down there with him, poking and moving branches around.

"I don't think it's here," she said. "My tiger Lester must have eaten it." She jumped up to a standing position and Pancoast joined her, stepping closer.

"I think it's extremely sexy when a woman has a pet tiger, you know." He smiled his sick pervert smile and tried to put his arm around Steph's waist.

"Ick, don't." She tried to push his hands away and didn't succeed. Pancoast was holding tight.

"Why don't you look for your cell phone in my apartment? I bet it's there." He waggled his eyebrows at her and moved his hand to her ass. She squirmed to get away, but he wouldn't let go. I'd seen enough. I waved to the guys to back off of Pancoast, that I'd handle him.

Albert Pancoast froze when he heard the click of a gun's safety being disengaged and dropped his arm from Stephanie's waist when the cold barrel of my Sig pressed against the back of his neck.

I spoke low and rough in his ear. "**I** ate the cell phone. I'm Lester, her pet tiger."

Pancoast didn't put up much of a fight. Even when my knee mysteriously connected with his pervert nuts and they'd gotten shoved up to his throat. Tank trussed him up in cuffs and shackles for his trip to the pokey. He threw him in the back of Woody's Navigator and Hal climbed in back with him and slammed the door. The Nav took off, peeling around the corner and hauling ass toward the T.P.D. cop shop. Tank and Bobby followed in the Expedition.

"Feel better?" Steph asked me, referring to me sending Pancoast's gonads out his nose. We slowly walked back to my Escalade. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her to me when we approached the driver's side. She leaned against the door, pulling me with her. I pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead and nuzzled her cheek.

"LOTS better." My arms circled her waist and pulled her tightly against me. "So we'll stop off at Haywood to debrief with Ranger and then…"

"Then what?" Steph asked, her voice husky.

"Then…we can go back to my apartment since we'll already be there," I pointed out. This got a sexy, seductive smile out of Steph that made my stomach tighten.

"Yessss," she hissed. I squeezed her ass cheek with white knuckles and silently thanked my lucky fucking stars while doing so.

"First things first, Beautiful." I let go of her after I kissed her and she scampered around to the passenger's side and got into the Escalade. I hauled myself into the driver's seat, slammed into reverse, and took off at full speed.

* * *

"Good work, everybody," Ranger barked at us. Stephanie and I were seated in the guest chairs in front of Ranger's sprawling mahogany desk. Tank, Bobby, Hal, and Woody were standing behind us, each at parade rest. I knew that Steph was just as eager as me to get the fuck out of Ranger's office and up to my apartment. I was concerned that Ranger's eerie ESP would pick up on what was going on between her and me, but I decided not to sweat it. The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I figured it would look.

Tank and the guys acknowledged Ranger's rare praise with slight nods, not wanting to show emotion like a chick would. Steph beamed and I smirked from my slouched position in the guest seat.

"Joe Juniak called me just before you got in and commended you all on a job well done." Ranger frowned. "But whose idea was it to knee the guy in the gonads?"

"No one kneed him in the gonads," Tank said, confused. I felt Steph's foot connect with my ankle and I jumped.

"Santos?" demanded Ranger. "Know anything about that?"

"Nope, sorry, man." I gave him a blank stare.

"Pancoast is in the Emergency Room at St. Francis with severe scrotal hemorrhaging and an intratesticular hematoma."

"What's that?" asked Hal.

"Someone kneed him in the balls so hard that the insides of his nuts are bleeding."

"Oh."

"But I'll let that go, since he sexually molested Stephanie on the sidewalk." Ranger looked down at his desk blotter and the sides of his mouth twitched upwards in the promise of a smile. "You're all dismissed."

Tank, Bobby, Hal, and Woody quietly left Ranger's office in a single-file line. Stephanie rose up out of her chair and followed them, pausing at the door for me. I got up to leave when Ranger looked up from his desk and cleared his throat.

"Santos," he said, staring at me with a blank expression on his face. "Just a word of advice to you."

"What's that?" I asked. I thought he'd squashed the whole knee-to-the-balls thing. Ranger gestured towards Stephanie standing in the doorway.

"She probably won't take it up the tailpipe, but it wouldn't hurt to check with her first."

_Fuck. _I mentally picked out the color of my mall-cop Segway, finally settling on a dark green.

**OMG! How does Ranger know about them??? Please keep the reviews coming! **


	5. Chapter 5

**I know I haven't updated for awhile, so I hope this new chapter finds everyone happy, healthy, and enjoying their February! – Jill**

Steph's POV

"_You're all dismissed," Ranger said._

Tank, Bobby, Hal, and Woody quietly left Ranger's office in a single-file line. I rose up out of my chair and followed them, pausing at the door for Lester. He got up to leave and his boot got caught around a leg on Ranger's guest seat, causing him to tumble backwards and smack head-first into Ranger's large mahogany bookcase.

"Shit," I exclaimed. Lester wasn't moving. He'd somehow knocked himself out and was sprawled out on his back near the door. A small amount of blood had begun to trickle down his forehead. I dropped to my knees next to Les and dabbed at the blood with a Kleenex I'd found. Ranger was out of his seat in no time. He stumbled around Lester and stuck his head into the hall.

"Brown! Get in here. Santos knocked himself unconscious in my office." Ranger knelt down to Lester. He examined his head and looked closely at the cut near Lester's hairline. The guys came stampeding back to Ranger's office doorway.

"How the hell did he do that?" said Bobby, grinning. He joined Ranger and I on the floor. "Hal, man, do me a favor. Get me the first aid box that's in my office. And a penlight." Hal took off down the hall, returning momentarily with the supplies Bobby had asked for. Bobby took the penlight and flicked it in Lester's eyes, checking for what I assumed to be brain function. Apparently he still had cerebral activity, because Bobby then began cracking up.

"He tripped on a chair, smacked his head on the bookshelf, and went down like a sack of sand," I offered by way of explanation.

"Shee-it," Woody said. "He's out like a light."

"Sleeping like a baby," remarked Tank. "Should we do something?"

Bobby shook his head. "I'll take care of the sliced-open forehead, but he should come to in a little bit." Bobby put on latex gloves, found some antiseptic in his medical case, and squeezed some on a gauze pad before wiping Lester's forehead with it. "He doesn't need stitches, but he'll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up." He tossed the bloody gauze and dabbed some antibiotic ointment on Lester's cut before putting a Transformers band-aid over it.

"What the fuck's with the kiddie bandages?" Hal spoke up.

Bobby shrugged. "Thought they might be fun."

I saw Lester's eyes twitch just then. He slowly moved his head to the side and back again, his brow furrowed. He began mumbling and I could have _sworn _I heard him say something about a job at the Quaker Bridge Mall. Come to think of it, a job at the Quaker Bridge Mall sounded appealing. If I worked at Macy's, I'd get an employee discount and that meant shoes, clothes, and more shoes. If I worked at Auntie Anne's, I'd get the added bonus of love handles along with the diabetic's nightmare-worth of goodness in the cinnamon-sugar pretzels. Mmmm, pretzels…

Ranger shook me out of my stupor when he got into Lester's face to exclaim, "What, man? What are you trying to say?" I knelt next to Ranger and peered down into Lester's squinted eyes. Suddenly, his eyes flew all the way open and he coughed.

"Wha – huh – where…oof." Lester had tried to sit up and his splitting headache knocked him right back down to the carpet.

"Yeah, might not wanna do that just yet." Bobby clapped him on the shoulder and gave a bark of laughter. He located a small chair pillow and placed it under Lester's head. Lester had his hands folded across his chest and was in no hurry to move.

"I don't feel so good," he mumbled. His deep olive complexion paled and his forehead became sweaty.

"You gonna puke?" Bobby asked Lester, and he nodded before rolling over on his side. Quick as a cat, Ranger ducked out of his office, immediately followed by Woody, Tank, and Hal. They were just in time. Bobby and I got the pleasure of hearing, as well as seeing, Lester Santos vomit the contents of his abdomen into Ranger's fancy leather-covered wastebasket.

For the record, any thoughts of getting into his pants in the near future quickly flew out the window.

When Lester was empty, and Bobby had reassured him that Ranger's wastebasket was from Target and not Pottery Barn, he rolled over onto his back again and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Concussion," Bobby remarked. "I'm glad I waited to give you an aspirin." He handed Lester a couple of pills and a bottle of Evian. Lester sat up a little and downed the pills, gingerly swallowing a little water with them.

"Ranger's gonna bust my ass," he mumbled.

"Dude, it's okay. I'm sure he'll just be glad that you didn't puke on his office carpet instead. That would have been a bitch to clean up," Bobby said.

"Yeah, he's not mad, Les," I added.

"No, not about this," Lester said, frustrated. "About you and I." He nodded towards me. "He said something about you, and a tailpipe…"

"Huh?" Bobby and I said together.

"After he said we were dismissed!" Lester growled. "I heard him!" Bobby shushed him and gently pushed him back down onto his pillow.

"Um, Les? After he told us we were dismissed, you tripped and blacked out." I furrowed my brown in confusion.

"Damn," he whispered. "I guess I must have been imagining it while I was passed out." He actually looked relieved. Some of the color returned to his cheeks, giving them a ruddy glow. Bobby stood up and brought Ranger's ruined wastebasket with him. He made a face as he tucked it under his arm to transport to the outside Dumpster.

"I'll be back," Bobby said to Lester and I. "Tell Ranger I'll put another wastebasket on my Pottery Ba – er, my _Target_ - shopping list."

"Whatever, bitch," Lester growled. "Tell him I'll give him two hundred bucks for a new one." Lester groaned then, and put his hand up to his head. He paused when he felt a band-aid there.

"I hurt myself?" he asked me when Bobby was gone. I nodded and smiled down at him.

"A little bit, yeah."

"Bad?"

"No. Just a minor cut."

Lester let the air whoosh out of his lungs. "I can't believe I dreamed up that whole thing," he said, mystified. "That thing about Ranger telling me you might take it up the tailpipe if I asked you." It was MY turn to let the air whoosh out of my lungs.

"What?" I exclaimed.

"I guess when I hit my head and blacked out, I dreamed that Ranger knew what we were up to and he told me that you probably won't, you know, do butt stuff. But that if I asked you, you might be into something like that."

"Dear God," I sighed. "You must have hit your head _hard_."

"I guess." Lester's lips formed his trademark crooked, panty-wetting grin. "So…would you?"

"NO."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

* * *

Ranger wasn't too angry when he found out about his wastebasket, despite the fact that he told Bobby his mother had given it to him as an office-warming present several years ago. Luckily, Lester was upstairs in his apartment with an ice pack on his head when the news was broken to Ranger.

"Babe," Ranger's deep voice called to me as I was walking out of the control room. I'd just finished helping Bobby and Tank take Lester upstairs and settle him on his couch with a cold compress, his cell phone, and the TV remote. Ranger was near the elevators, leaning up against the wall with a predatory smirk on his face. I turned around and headed towards him, all the while contemplating the hidden meaning behind his stance and stare.

"What are you doing, Ranger?"

He didn't answer me, only widening his deviant smile.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked him.

"Maybe."

"Well, what is it?"

Quick as a flash, he had me pinned between his hard body and the wall. I gasped, more out of sheer surprise than out of much else.

"I've been thinking, babe."

At this point, my thoughts had become loose associations and my tongue suddenly felt like it was too big for my mouth.

"Yeah?" I mumbled weakly.

"Yeah. I have." Ranger leaned down and traced the shell of my ear with his hot tongue. I momentarily lost consciousness, but it returned when I felt a thump in my lower regions followed by a rush of something hot. I recovered quickly.

"What have you been thinking about?"

"Spending some quality time…with you," mumbled Ranger. He smoothed his hands down my back and rested them on my hipbones. I felt my knees go weak and I began to slide to the floor but he caught me and held me upright. He chuckled.

"Wh – what kind of time?" I whispered.

"Quality time." Ranger pressed my body into the wall with his and I felt the object of his affection poking into my stomach. Against all odds, I grew somewhat apprehensive of his motives.

"Um, why now, if you don't mind me asking? I've been waiting several months for you to snap out of your funk, and all you've done during that time is led me on with sexual innuendo that leads into a brick wall." I frowned up at him and he had the nerve to smile.

"Does a man have to have a reason?" Ranger mumbled. He leaned down and placed a hot kiss on my pulse point.

"It would be nice."

Ranger drew his lips away from my neck and stared intently into my questioning eyes. "Babe, I have to say that I'm surprised. I thought you wanted this."

I sighed. "I did. That one night together was so amazing, and I suppose that on another level I was hoping for more. But I understand that your life doesn't lend itself to relationships, or whatever it is that you keep saying."

Ranger chuckled again. "Babe. My life will _always_ lend itself to you."

"No, your _body_ will always lend itself to me."

"It's all that I can offer you right now, babe. I thought you'd realized that." Ranger frowned.

"Well, now it's time for YOU to realize something, Carlos. If I thought that we were going nowhere, I wouldn't have put my life on hold for so long."

"No one asked you to do that, babe," Ranger said quietly. He let go of me and stepped back.

"You're right. But since things are over for good between Morelli and me, I was sort of hoping that you'd swoop in and rescue me from a lifetime of loneliness."

"I doubt you'll ever be lonely, Steph," he said. "You would never let that happen."

"I used to think that YOU would never let that happen." I smiled sadly at him before turning around and heading towards the door to the stairwell.

* * *

As soon as I was shut safely into the stairwell, I leaned against the closed door and sighed loudly. I knew for sure that whatever had been going on between Ranger and I had come to a complete and total halt with little to no chance of recovery. I wasn't sure what to think about it at the moment. My hormones were on overdrive due to many reasons; my emotions were on the fence because of the Ranger-style "dumping" I'd just endured; and worst of all, the top snap of my cargoes wasn't able to grasp the concept of 'closed'.

Leave it to Batman to throw a stick in my spokes. My cell phone rang just then. I looked at the readout and saw it was Lester.

"Hey, beautiful."

"How's the head?" I asked, grinning.

"Better," was the reply. I could picture Lester wincing as he patted his Transformers band-aid. "Are you home yet?"

"Actually, no. I'm hiding in the stairwell on two."

"If you're interested, I've got microwave popcorn, Xbox 360 Live, and Corona. I could use some company." I could hear the smile in Lester's voice.

"Geez, Santos, you're supposed to be recovering from a concussion."

"Let me put it this way. I've gone to combat in Bahrain with fresh bullet holes in my arms and legs, and survived a beating from a large, pissed-off Samoan tribal leader while on a mission in Savai'i. Tank and I kept stealing coconuts from his village and were chased by Polynesian Death Marchers. If I could make it through that shit, then my concussed ass could certainly spend the evening being entertained by a woman who makes my heart beat faster with a single smile."

I couldn't help but laugh and blush. The thought of him going to combat with large guns made my lower half tingle slightly. "Well, okay. I'll come up, but I'm going to make sure that you don't overdo it." I began climbing the stairs to the fourth floor.

"Hey, I'm not agreeing to anything. But I can promise I won't overdo it." With a menacing chuckle that Dr. Evil would have been proud of, Lester disconnected. I rolled my eyes.

I let myself into Lester's apartment and saw that he was exactly where Tank and Bobby and I had left him. He was sprawled out on his living room couch, in nothing but white basketball shorts. A cool, wet washcloth was covering his face and his voice was muffled when he spoke.

"I think it's time for something stronger," Lester mumbled. "How about some morphine?"

I shut the door behind me and kicked my boots off in his foyer. I took a second to glance around at Lester's apartment. It was huge, newly redone with a large sunken living room and a cozy eat-in kitchen. He had decorated it in black and different shades of red. The latest in electronics, including a 52-inch plasma and a surround-sound system lined the far wall of the living room. Several DVDs and Xbox games littered the shelves of the entertainment center.

"Sorry, Les," I said. "Bobby only left you with aspirin and Tylenol."

"Damn," he croaked.

"Is it that bad?" I scooted his legs to the side and joined him on the butter-soft leather couch.

"No," Lester said. "But morphine does sound fuckin' nice." He removed his cool compress and sat up slowly, testing the waters of his painfully-throbbing skull. He decided that it wasn't so bad and tossed his washcloth onto the glass coffee table. He grinned at me and reached over to tug on a renegade curl. "You hungry?"

"Sure," I replied. "I can make some popcorn. As long as it has extra butter and tons of partially-hydrogenated soybean oil." I got up and headed to the kitchen. Yeah, yeah. I know I complain about my non-existent muffin top, but my diet was starting tomorrow. I was rooting around in the fridge and found that Lester not only had plenty of beer, but Rainbow Chips Deluxe, Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked ice cream, two full bags of Cheetos, and several jars of maraschino cherries. Be still, my heart.

"It's great to see that you're not into eating alfalfa sprouts and tree bark, like Ranger," I said, carting a bag of Cheetos and a jar of maraschino cherries into the living room. The popcorn was popping away in the microwave and the sound of fake buttery substitute, loaded with salt, could practically be heard splashing around in the bag.

"I used to face death on a regular basis. If I died with tofu squares and organic celery in my gut, I'd have died a very unhappy, hungry guy." Lester's eyes twinkled as he tore open the bag of Cheetos and took a handful. God, he was so damned sexy. I had to remind myself that he was fragile and probably wouldn't be able to withstand a 130-pound sex-deprived female launching herself at him. Okay, okay. 135-pound female. Whatever, people.

I popped a cherry into my mouth and found myself smiling. "Well, it's depressing to see that you can eat this stuff all the time and not gain weight. I'm up two pounds just for breathing in the scent of a pineapple upside-down cake."

"Beautiful, I spend long hours in the gym. Believe me, I make up for it." Lester munched away happily on his Cheetos. The microwave timer dinged, signaling that our popcorn coated in butter-flavored Yellow No. 5 was done. I dumped it into a bowl and took it back out to the living room, along with two Coronas.

"I'm reluctant to give you this beer, since you've taken aspirin."

"Shit," Lester said, giving me his lopsided grin. "I never had you pegged as a party pooper, Steph." He cracked open the Corona I'd set on the table and took a long pull.

"Suit yourself." I took a few sips of mine and ate a handful of popcorn. I leaned back against the plush sofa cushions, content with my environment and feeling somewhat relaxed, albeit slightly sad. Lester put his arm around me and pulled me close to him before nuzzling his face in my neck. He was so warm and soft that I found myself sighing and leaning into his touch.

"Everything okay with you, beautiful?" Les asked me quietly. He placed a small kiss just below my ear.

"Not really. Do you remember how bummed out you were after you turned thirty last month?" I asked him. He nodded, grimacing.

"Vividly."

"I kind of feel like that right now."

"Beautiful, you've already turned thirty," Lester pointed out. "Six months ago."

"I know." I sighed again and Les pulled me up against his chest. "But the crappy feeling that my life is going nowhere somehow came back." A tear _almost_ leaked out of my eye, but I recovered quickly so that Lester wouldn't see me cry. God, I'd feel like such a simp.

"What brought all this on, Steph?" he asked me.

"Tonight I told Ranger that whatever we were messing with is over."

Lester stiffened beside me and ceased tracing my upper arm with lazy fingertips. The shock must have worn off a few seconds later, because he relaxed again and resumed his finger movements. "I'm guessing he didn't take it all that great."

"His life doesn't lend itself to relationships, Lester."

"It's his contract with the government," Les said, by way of explanation. "He just can't settle down and take on the responsibility of having a woman at home, waiting alone with baited breath for him to return, if he even makes it back in one piece."

"I know. It was over awhile ago, but I felt like I needed to make it final. He came onto me tonight, by the elevators." I expected Lester to stiffen again, but instead he softly placed his lips on my temple.

"I'm sorry, beautiful," he mumbled.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. I know he'll always be in my life as a friend, and that's all. He's my boss and my personal mentor. I don't know what I'd do without him." I rested my head on Lester's shoulder and he gently brushed the wisps of curls out of my face. "He's helped me so much."

Lester kissed my temple again. "So why all the feelings of a dead-end life?"

"My mother keeps pressuring me to get married. I still haven't told her Morelli and I called it quits."

"Jesus," Lester blew out. "That's gonna kill her."

"Tell me about it."

"If it's any comfort to you, I don't think that your existence is "dead-end" at all. In fact, you of all people probably have the most interesting life."

"Why, because I blow up cars and get thrown in garbage bins?" I grumbled. Lester laughed against the top of my head. His hot breath flowed through my hair and made goose bumps travel down my spine.

"That, too. I've never met a woman who is so independent and in control of her expectations. All women should take an example from you." Lester smiled against my forehead.

"Well, I have to be. I just wish everyone would start taking me more seriously. Especially my mother." I sighed.

"Maybe you need to take on a new direction," Lester suggested. "Try out some new stuff."

"I'm not going bungee jumping into the Delaware River with you and Manny," I mumbled. "So stop asking me."

"What about –

"Or taking that snake-wrangling field trip with the wildlife guy in the Pine Barrens."

"Damn, Bobby and I were psyched about that."

"Forget it, Santos." I unwound myself from his arm and reached over to the bowl of popcorn. I stuffed a handful in my mouth and crunched. Lester downed the last of his Corona and clanked the empty bottle onto the glass coffee table.

"You're just scared they won't get the anti-venom to you fast enough after you get bit." Lester got up off the couch and winced as his throbbing head protested. He shook off the pain and teetered off towards the kitchen.

"So, you're sure I'll get bit?" I called after him, my mouth full of popcorn.

"Fuck, yes! Those snakes'll want to sink their fangs into your flesh the moment they lay their beady-ass eyes on you." I heard Lester open the fridge and remove another beer. He twisted it open and the cap hit the granite countertop with a little tinkling noise. I scooped the rest of the popcorn into my mouth and washed it down with the last of my Corona before carting the empty bowl into the kitchen. Lester turned to me when I joined him in the kitchen, and leaned up against the stove with a smirk on his drop-dead-sexy face. His Transformers band-aid was _so cute._

"Maybe you're right," I said as I rinsed the bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher. "I should go snake-wrangling."

"I knew you'd come around," Lester said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm just saying, beautiful. Do something wild. Open some new doors." He took a chug of his beer and swished it around in his mouth before gulping it down. I hopped up onto the countertop across from him and situated my hips in between a Cuisinart food processor and a block of kitchen knives that appeared un-used. I assumed that Lester Santos wasn't much of a cook. That didn't surprise me. I smiled and he caught me, and I blushed.

"How wild are we talking?" I asked him, as he approached my perch on the counter.

"Cop-calling wild."

"Jail-time wild?"

"Oh, yeah. Maybe even police-chase wild."

"Hey. I'm not interested in becoming a felon," I said, frowning. Lester had approached me and even though I was sitting on the counter, he still towered over me by a few inches. He had slid his hands down my sides and they were now resting on my ass. I got a flutter of a rush as he smiled his orgasm-inducing lopsided grin at me.

"Your call, beautiful." Lester dipped his head down and brushed his lips across my pulse point, and suddenly I wanted to feel his lips on mine, instead of my neck. I took his face in my hands and cradled his lips with my own, softly at first. He responded with more than I gave him as he swept his tongue into my mouth and slid it sensually against mine. His moan vibrated deep in his chest, and his grip on my ass tightened. He tucked his hips in between my spread-open legs and I could feel the object of his affection pressing into the inside of my thigh. I kissed him hungrily, letting him know I was just as affected.

Lester pulled away breathlessly, the crooked grin once again in place. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and desire, his lips were swollen, and I could see his heart slamming up against his rib cage in double-time. "Damn, what did I do to deserve that?" he mumbled.

"I…I'm opening up a new door," I told him before leaning in to take his lips with my own again. Lester kissed me back for a few seconds before pulling away again. He studied me with chocolate brown eyes framed by long, thick lashes. I saw something flash in the surface of his pupils. Passion? Desire? Need? Whatever it was, it made me shiver. In a good way.

"Baby," Lester began. "I think that this door has been open for awhile, and we're finally walking through it."

**To be continued...I know you're all hating me for making Ranger such a monster, but there IS eventually going to be a method to my madness! ;-)**


	6. Chapter 6

Lester's POV

I woke up the next morning with Stephanie's warm body curled up against mine. Her hair was fanned out on the pillow beside mine and her brown curls were wild. Sexy wild. I put my face in the crook of her neck and breathed in. She smelled like heaven, all warm and soft from sleep.

My better half had been awake even before I'd become conscious, and it was currently nestled in the juncture of her smooth, silken thighs. Flashbacks of the naughty things we'd done the night before crept through my sleep-fogged brain and surfaced into my vision. Suddenly, I couldn't wait any longer for her to wake the hell up.

Steph stirred when she felt me shift against her and smiled without opening her eyes when I gently rolled her onto her back. I moved to cover her body with mine and placed feather-light kisses down her neck to her hairline.

"Don't you have to go on duty soon?" she mumbled, still smiling. Her eyelids fluttered open and her crystal blue eyes focused on mine. I ran my hand across the naked curve of her right hip before burying my face in her neck again. Sighing, I reluctantly lifted my head long enough to check the numbers on my bedside digital alarm clock. Seven-fifteen. I had to be downstairs on two for a briefing with Ranger in thirty minutes.

I let my face drop back onto the pillow and let out a frustrated growl. "_Fuck_." Stephanie's tinkling laughter filtered into my ears and, without warning, I thrust my hips into hers. She gasped at the sudden rough contact and quickly reached around my back to clutch my shoulders. My right hand inched its way to her wetness and I slid my index finger down her slit, gathering her fluids as I moved it along. I parted her folds and pushed my length inside of her slowly, inch by agonizing inch. I watched her blue eyes darken as she took me in all the way, biting her bottom lip and staring up at me while her body adjusted itself to my size.

"You are so goddamned beautiful," I whispered. "I have never wanted anyone so badly in my life, Stephanie." I bent down to press a kiss to her mouth as I pulled almost all the way out of her body. She tasted like sweet honey and I delved my tongue between the two pink puffs she called lips, and when her tongue touched mine I pressed my hips into hers and buried myself inside her to the hilt.

The sound Steph made nearly drove me insane with the need to be buried deep within her inner walls. It was a cross between a sigh and a growl, and I'd have given my right _and_ left arm to hear it again. She began to match the rhythm I'd set, thrusting those amazing hips up to meet mine with eager enthusiasm. Her back was arched off my mattress, exposing her neck, taunting me with its tender, sweet-smelling flesh. I took a fold of the proffered skin between my teeth and bit gently, eliciting another knee-buckling groan from between her lips.

I dipped my head even lower then, taking her nipple into my mouth and latching onto it as our hips rocked together, working towards a common goal. Stephanie's hands left my shoulders and held my face to her breast as I bit down gently on the hard little pink peak. That was all it took for her. She gasped her way through a powerful orgasm that swept across her body and caused her to clench down onto me with a squeezing force. I could feel the pulsations ripple down my dick as she came. The sensations set me off then, and I emptied myself deep inside of her center with a long groan.

When I could feel my legs again, I pressed one last kiss to Stephanie's top lip and rolled off of her onto my side. "I'm thinking I might keep you prisoner here all day." I gently tweaked her nipple with my fingers and she laughed lightly.

"I might have to," she replied. "I don't know how I'm going to explain the fact that I've been here all night. I'm sure everyone has seen that the Buick is still in the underground garage."

"Just say that you were taking care of me, and you decided to stay over to make sure I didn't bite the dust in my sleep." I hugged her closer to me and wrapped one of my legs around both of hers.

"Of a forehead cut?" Steph looked at me incredulously. Her face quickly became thoughtful. "Come to think of it, the Mercer County Morgue **is **full of perfectly healthy people sporting kiddie band-aids to cover their minor lacerations."

I couldn't help but laugh. The thought _was_ ridiculous. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Of course. Stephanie Plum, Master of Deception." Stephanie's eyes twinkled as she gently unwound herself from the cocoon of my body. I watched intently as she climbed out of bed and stood over me, leaning into my face with a smile on hers.

"I knew it."

"Nice try, Lester. I'd love to stay here and veg out all day, but I promised Lula we'd go after Stanley Smithers this afternoon. She desperately wants the chance to test out her new, illegally-obtained police-issue Taser."

"I'm guessing some down-on-his-luck firearms salesman stationed on Stark Street is four hundred dollars richer?"

"You guessed right."

* * *

Tank caught up with me in the elevator on my way down to two. I noticed a slight limp as he moved to stand next to me. I figured I'd wait until the doors shut before I asked him what was going on.

"Lula spend the night?" I countered. Tank took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before answering me. He nodded once.

"I don't know, man. I thought I was in better shape than it turns out I actually am."

I nodded understandably. I was in the same boat at one point in time. "You remember Karina, right?"

Tank nodded. "Vividly. It was the first time I'd seen you cry since Baghdad."

I cringed, not wanting to go there. "Yeah," I croaked. "You'd cry, too, if you had an M110 rifle bullet lodged in your ass cheek."

"My bad," Tank said, hiding a smile. "Ricochet."

"Ricochet my left nut." The elevator dinged on two and the doors flew open.

"How's the head?" Tank asked me.

Stephanie had applied a new band-aid before I left my apartment this morning, along with some triple antibiotic ointment. This time, the band-aid was skin-colored and non-teasable. I patted it gingerly as we lumbered down the hall to Ranger's conference room.

"Better. Kind of a dull ache now." Tank and I plowed through the double doors and headed for our usual seats at the back of the room. I leaned across the table and slapped hands with Hal and Bobby before plopping down in the big leather chair I'd marked as mine with a white-out pen. Ranger hadn't been pleased to find a small "L" on the chair's arm rest.

"Santos," Hal greeted.

"I see you made it through the night," observed Bobby. "I almost stopped by late last night to check on you."

My stomach flip-flopped and I panicked. If Bobby'd stopped by, he would definitely know that Steph was there. And he'd definitely know that she wasn't just changing my band-aid and administering over-the-counter pain medications. Jesus Christ in a go-kart. My fate would have been better off if Grandma Bella were to put the eye on me! She'd put the eye on Erik Salvatora and all his pubic hair fell out. During sex.

"Earth to Santos," exclaimed Hal. He kicked my chair with his size-twelve boot. Tank and Bobby were staring at me like I'd suddenly grown a third arm.

"I was out like a fucking light last night, bro," I told Bobby. "I took the drowsy pills you gave me."

"The Tylenol P.M.?"

"Yeah, those."

Just then, Ranger whipped into the conference room, carrying his laptop. He wordlessly sat down at the head of the table and opened the computer. He tapped around on the keys for a little while and when he was done, he glared over at the rest of us.

"Word on the street is that Vinnie Plum posted a bond for Jacky Humphreys a couple of weeks ago, and he went FTA yesterday morning." Ranger leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who's Jacky Humphreys?" asked Bobby.

Ranger tapped on his laptop keyboard for a few seconds and then began reading from the screen. "He's one of Cubby Delio's new mechanics, down at the Mobil station on Hamilton. Took a five-iron to his wife three weeks ago and nearly beat her into a pulp."

Bobby whistled through his teeth. "I guess she didn't have dinner ready for him on time," he joked.

"The maniac of a judge let him out on $200,000 bond. His folks fronted the twenty grand to spring his sorry ass out of the jail cell." Ranger snapped his laptop shut and leaned back in his chair again. "He took off last night. One source tells me he's trying to head to Canada. Another rumor has it that he's headed for the border. Literally."

"Mexico?" asked Tank.

"Yep. Tijuana."

"They always head to Tijuana," sighed Hal.

"I'll bet serious cash that Vinnie's shitting a brick right now," I laughed. "Remember that visa bond he did awhile back? That caused his entire office staff to wind up in Vegas? He'd claimed that if the visa bond fell through, he would have to sell used cars down in Scottsdale!"

"I wonder what fate he's dreamed up for himself with this one," Hal spoke up. "Pole dancer at Hell's Ballroom? I thought I once heard him mention the Ice Capades."

"He's got way too much body hair for either of those," Tank grumbled. "I see him as a shopping cart collector at Wal-Mart."

Hal, Bobby, and I doubled over with laughter. Ranger glared darkly at us. "I'm glad this amuses you all. Because guess what: I've just assigned the four of you to this case. I want you working on this detail from the time your morning wood wakes you up to the time you tuck it into bed at night. If Humphreys isn't found within seven days from now, Plum forfeits the bond and you're all out of a job."

"Bossman," Hal began. "I know this isn't the best time to bring it up, but –

Ranger held up a hand. "Don't worry about the snack machine on one, Dominguez. I've already called someone to come out and fix it."

"I mean, I'm just saying. All those chips and things in there are going stale and all…"

Ranger rolled his eyes, his lips tugged slightly upwards in the promise of a smile. "You're all dismissed."

Bobby followed me into my office so that I could get my laptop and a few files from my desk drawer. He picked his way through the debris on the floor and managed to clear off one of my guest chairs enough to be able to sit in it.

"When are you gonna clean this shit up?" Bobby asked me, looking around at the jumble of office furniture and military tchotchkes. He picked up an _Import Tuner_ calendar, flipped through the pictures of half-naked chicks posing seductively on street rods, and tossed it back into a pile of assorted junk.

"I'm redecorating. Don't worry about it." I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. I had no sooner opened Outlook when my iPhone jangled, indicating that I had a text. It was from Miss Stephanie Plum, Temptress Extraordinaire.

_I made my escape. You'd be proud! Hopefully no one will ask. P.S. – Thanks for ripping my panties last night. I'm forced to go commando today. xoxo Steph_

Holy fuck. The thought of Stephanie going commando in her jeans made my mouth water. I'd give just about anything to be those jeans. I texted her back while Bobby's attention was diverted to a rather revealing framed photo of my two youngest sisters, posing on Miami Beach with a large yellow python wrapped around their necks.

_Your jeans are damn lucky. Don't forget about our date this Friday. You can pick the place, but truthfully I'm a little sick of Pino's. A man could only eat so many meatball subs. P.S. – next time, don't wear any panties. That way I won't be forced to rip them off of you. xoxo Lester_

I was just hitting Send on Steph's text when Ranger stepped into my office and picked his way through all the junk on the floor.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Santos?" he asked, standing next to me and towering over my seat. I quickly jammed my iPhone into the front pocket on my cargoes (which was hard to do, since the phone cover is rubbery) and stared innocently up at Ranger.

"What's going on?" I asked him, as nonchalant as I could manage. Ranger turned to Bobby and nodded for him to scram. Bobby hauled ass out of my office just as Ranger perched himself on the edge of my desk and folded his arms across his chest menacingly.

"About Stephanie," Ranger began. "Did she happen to spend the night at your apartment last night?"

"Er, why do you ask?"

"Her car had been parked in the underground garage up until about fifteen minutes ago. And since none of my other sane men would even _dare_ to spend the night with her, I figured it had to have been _your _apartment she was staying at."

I gulped and silently thanked God that Ranger couldn't see my ass cheeks start to sweat. _Time to turn on the Santos charm,_ I thought. "Actually, yes, she did stay with me last night. I was feeling _very_ woozy from the…head bump…and all of the medications, so she thought it might be best to keep an eye on me throughout the night. She stayed out in the living room, on the couch."

Ranger nodded. "I see."

"You know I would _never_ think of Stephanie inappropriately," I said. "She's a coworker, and more importantly a good friend. I'm lucky to have her friendship."

"Damn right," growled Ranger. He pushed off from my desk and stalked out of my office. But not before nearly eating it after getting his foot caught up in some branches of a fake potted tree.

* * *

Friday afternoon rolled around, and I was closer to finding out the mystery behind the Bermuda Triangle than I was to figuring out Jacky Humphreys' whereabouts. I'd spent the rest of Wednesday and most of yesterday on the phone to Mexico (on RangeMan's nickel, of course) and to several Trenton hospitals looking for this guy. I'd sent Hal up to New York to look around, but the only thing he came back with was an autograph from Derek Jeter and a black eye that he _claimed_ was from an accidental elbow to the face during a Yankees victory celebration, although I'd overheard him tell Bobby that it was actually the result of a fist fight with an out-of-control Red Sox fan.

I put Hal behind a desk where I could keep an eye on him and gave him a phone list of people to call regarding Humphreys. Tank and Bobby had gone out to canvass the outskirts of Trenton, in case Humphreys was still local, but they came back with nothing.

We were all pretty frustrated, especially considering Ranger's ominous termination threat. Every possible lead we got led us straight into a brick wall. I'd spoken to Vinnie over the phone and he'd threatened to leave town and figure out a way to join up with _Stars on Ice. _

At five o'clock on the dot, I slammed my laptop shut and pushed my rolling chair back from my desk. I'd texted Stephanie after lunch to let her know to be ready at seven sharp, since she'd told me earlier to go ahead and make reservations anywhere I wanted. She texted me back, saying she'd be waiting with bells on. I wasn't sure what that meant, but it sounded so good that I wouldn't have minded much if she'd planned on decking my halls.

I showered and shaved, brushed and rinsed, and gelled and spiked. I put new contacts in, stuck in my diamond stud earrings, and stood in front of my closet in a towel to try to find something that matched. I settled on a black long-sleeved dress shirt, a pair of tan dress pants, and black shoes. Ella had gone iron-happy not too long ago, so every article of clothing I owned had perfect creases.

At six forty-five, I was down in the underground garage ready to finagle myself into my Escalade. I was surprised to see Ranger getting ready to climb into his Porsche. He was dressed like a page out of _GQ._

"Got a hot date, Bossman?" I joked.

"Santos," he greeted me. "I've got a business meeting out of town tonight."

"That's cool," I replied.

"Do _you_ have a hot date?" Ranger asked me, smirking.

"When do I _not_ have a hot date?" I said.

"You're right. Stupid question." Ranger got into his Porsche and fired up the engine, the exhaust echoing off the cement garage walls. With a flick of his wrist, he backed out of his parking space, tore past Ram at the guard gate, and disappeared from view down Haywood.

I reached Stephanie's apartment building just as the sun was setting. I wasn't able to get a good parking spot, since the mile-long cars of the resident senior citizens were taking up all the close ones. I muttered a few choice words about the aging generation and hiked up to the rear building entrance from my parking spot next to the Dumpster.

My finger was steady as I rang her doorbell, but my pounding heart contraindicated my calm demeanor. Why was I so anxious? I've done this a million times. But this was Stephanie. I suspected that was the reason for the rogue nerves.

The door was yanked back and there she stood, in all her glory. She had on a black spaghetti-strapped dress with a slit up the leg that stopped just short of "Yowza!" and four-inch stilettos with ankle straps. Her brown curls were cascading down her back in thick waves, and I wondered just how many layers of mascara she'd managed to paint onto her eyelashes. I was guessing she was just as anxious as I felt, because there looked to be about seven coats.

I growled low in my throat and shut the door behind me when she wordlessly let me into her apartment. Stephanie had me backed up against her front door in two seconds flat, her hot little hands palming my ass as I yanked her flush against the front of my body. I wasted no time bathing her tongue with my own as our mouths moved together in heated passion. I lifted her knee against my hip and slid my hand into the slit of her dress to rest on her (bare?) cheek. Dear Lord. She was either al natural or had on a very tiny thong.

Stephanie broke from the kiss and grinned up at me seductively. "Al natural," she whispered. Did she read my fucking mind? I lost it completely and started to drag her towards her bedroom.

"Lester," she protested weakly. "I'm all ready to go."

"Well, get un-ready," I growled. Steph dug her heels in when I continued to proceed towards the bedroom.

"I'm starving. Besides, there's always after dinner," Steph pointed out. I stopped and looked at her. She smiled a naughty smile.

"This is true." I dropped one last gentle kiss on her luscious mouth before stepping back to give her a once-over. "You look fucking gorgeous."

"Thanks," she replied, blushing. "So where are you taking me?"

I gathered her in my arms and peppered her neck with soft kisses. "A little place I know of, over in Ewing. Do you like Italian food?" I teased her.

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

"If he's not, then we've got a real problem."

* * *

The drive to Ewing took about a half hour, due to all the traffic coming out of the Burg. Stephanie was seated next to me, staring out her passenger's window. I reached over and gingerly took her hand, and she looked over at me and gave me a huge smile. Relief washed over me, since I didn't want to seem too "boyfriend-y", because I wasn't. But it felt comfortable, for some reason, to be holding her hand like that. I brushed my thumb across her knuckles.

"Thanks for taking care of me the other night." I brought her hand to my lips and lightly kissed her palm. Steph blushed in the street light and smiled coyly.

"You don't have to thank me, Les. I wanted to be there with you."

I smiled over at her and kissed her palm again. "Well, I liked having you there with me." I let go of her hand so that I could turn my SUV into Erini's parking lot. I cut the engine and hopped out to help Steph out of the passenger's side. I took her hand in my own and waited while she maneuvered herself out of my Escalade in those four-inch heels. She teetered a little bit on the landing, but I held onto her tightly.

"Damn near broke my ankle," she joked. I shut the car door after her and waited while she situated her dress.

"I guess I should have had the valet park this for me," I sighed. "I forgot they have one here."

"It's fine," Stephanie said. "I've walked further distances in shoes that were much worse than these." She grimaced as she started off across the parking lot. I dashed to keep up with her and wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"I made a seven-thirty reservation. I'm so hungry I might eat the menu." As soon as the words left my mouth, a loud gurgling sound erupted from my abdomen. "See?"

"Don't worry, we'll feed_ it_ soon." Steph glanced at me before plowing ahead towards the restaurant.

By the time we made it to the front doors, I was crankier than a tired toddler and Steph's shoes looked like they were slowly amputating her feet, one toe at a time. There was one person ahead of us at the maître d's snooty little podium. I got Stephanie settled on a cushioned bench and stepped up to the podium to wait.

The woman in front of me looked like an Eva Mendes clone and didn't appear to be too concerned about a long wait for a table. The maître d' approached his podium and greeted the woman.

"May I help you?" the man asked Eva. She smiled a million-dollar smile at him.

"My date is outside with the valet. We have a reservation for two at seven-thirty."

"Sure," the maître d' schmoozed out. "Of course."

I chose that moment to turn my attention to the overhang in front of the restaurant, where the valet works his magic on Erini's pitiful parking situation. A black Porsche Turbo rocketed past the double glass doors and I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Stephanie must have seen the Porsche pass by, too, because her facial expression changed from relaxed to suspicious. We both turned our attention back to Eva and the maître d'.

"What name is the reservation under?" the man asked Eva.

"Manoso. Carlos Manoso."

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! I'm enjoying the heck out of writing this story, and I hope you all are liking it! Reviews and such are always appreciated! --Jill**

Stephanie's POV

"Ah, Mr. Santos. Right this way, please." The maître d' picked up two menus from the stack on his podium and turned on his heel before heading towards a table smack in the middle of the restaurant. I'd gotten up when the scantily-clad chick in front of Lester had sauntered off towards the bar, probably in search of a glass of Dom Perignon to go with her "fancy" attitude. I imitated her haughty voice in my mind. _My date is with the valet…my dress cost two thousand dollars…I lunched with Oprah yesterday…_gag me with a spoon. Unh. Major mental head slap. Lester wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me after the maître d'.

"Do you have anything…towards the back?" he asked the man when we'd reached the table. The maître d' frowned and looked from Lester to me and back to Lester again. I glanced around impatiently and kept my eyes trained on the woman at the bar. I wanted to be seated already and out of sight should Ranger come prancing into the restaurant. After hearing Lester ask the maître d' that question, I was guessing he felt the same way. I had a slight nauseous feeling in my stomach.

"Is there something wrong with this table, sir?"

"No! I mean, no. Of course not. It's just that my date and I would prefer to be a little less...exposed." Lester clenched his teeth together on the word "exposed" and discreetly swept his jacket aside to let the maître d' see the badge and gun on his hip. Leave it to Lester Santos to be packing on a dinner date.

The maître d's eyes flew open wide and he blushed furiously. "Of course, sir. Absolutely. Say no more." He quickly tucked his tight little tuxedoed ass in and made tracks for the back of the restaurant, Lester and I on his heels. A few empty tables were partially hidden behind a wall. Perfect.

"This should be more to your liking." The maître d' placed the poster-board-sized menus on a table near the window and moved to pull out our chairs.

"Thank you," I said to the man as I sat down. Lester hung his jacket on the outside of his chair and seated himself across from me.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?"

"Hey, Garḉon. We're cool. Thanks." Lester glared at the maître d' as he put his hand out in front of him. The man nodded and ducked away. "Is this table okay?" Les asked me.

"It's fine," I answered. "Nice touch with the gun and badge, by the way." I opened my menu and began scanning the list of entrées. I knew it would be hard to make a choice since everything sounded _so good._

"I figured it was the only way to get him to change our table. Wanted to make it seem like we were important, that's all." Lester grinned and took a sip of his ice water. "You want a drink?"

"It would probably be un-ladylike to order a beer, so I'll take a glass of merlot."

"Pfft. Your grandmother would order a beer," Lester said wryly.

"Grandma Mazur brings un-ladylike to a whole new dimension." I snapped my menu shut and craned my neck around the dividing wall to see where the gorgeous fancy chick was, and to verify that the Carlos Manoso she was waiting for was _our_ Carlos Manoso. Sure enough, to my horror, Ranger was stepping up to the maître d's podium and flashing his hundred-watt smile at him. Lester saw it, too.

"Holy shit," he hissed. He quickly slouched down in his seat and brought his menu up to conceal his face. "I can't believe this!"

"Good job, Santos. If we'd gone to Pino's, this wouldn't have happened!" I hissed, ducking behind my water glass. As if that would help.

"I swear to God, Steph! I had no idea! And if I eat another freaking meatball sub I'll turn into ground beef and marinara sauce." Only Lester's eyes were poking out from the top of his menu, and they were wide and shining. "Do you think he'd recognize me like this?"

"It's just a menu, Les. Not a cloak of invisibility."

"Yeah, and you're completely under the radar behind that water glass."

"Oh, shut up," I muttered.

The gorgeous fancy chick had spotted Ranger and they were both now following the maître d' to a table near the front of the restaurant. Ironically, it was next to the same table that Lester and I were almost seated at.

My heart sank when I watched him plant a kiss on her cheek just before they were seated. I couldn't believe that he'd turned me down, cancelled our future without a second thought, and here he was on a date with a woman who was better-looking and way more sophisticated than little old me. As I sat and stared, I began to feel ugly and unwanted despite the fact that Lester was seated across the table from me. Lester caught me staring.

"I'm sorry, Steph," he said quietly. He'd taken down his menu fortress and was peering at me with a concerned look on his gorgeous face. "I don't know what to say."

I brightened my face and tried to look all smiley. "You know what? It's fine. I want to enjoy being here with you. I don't want to worry about Ranger anymore." And that was the truth, bless my heart.

"You sure, beautiful?"

I nodded fervently. "Yes." Though the hurt was still coursing through me, I forced myself to realize that Ranger had clearly moved on. I opened my menu again and began scanning the appetizers. While I scanned, I took an inventory on my feelings for Lester. They were definitely there, and they were definitely strong. I'd wanted to be intimate with him for quite some time now. I supposed that only time would tell where our relationship would go. I decided at that moment to relax and enjoy the ride. Literally.

"I think I'll have the chicken marsala," Lester announced. He glanced up to do a Ranger-check, and I followed his line of vision. Ranger was sitting close to his date, and she was talking a mile a minute to him. He was listening with a smile on his face. Thankfully, he wasn't directly facing our table.

"What if he sees us here?" I asked Lester. "What do we say?"

"I guess we tell him the truth," he replied uneasily. "I wasn't prepared to do that tonight."

"Me neither." We both fell silent after that.

"Have you decided what you want to eat?" asked Lester after awhile. He reached for my hand across the table and brought it to his lips. I shivered and watched his eyes darken. "Because I have."

"Chicken marsala?" I said, repeating what he'd just told me, my voice a little huskier than usual.

"That, too."

_Yikes._ I got a minor hot flash and brushed it off with a quick sip of ice water. A waitress approached us then, and nearly dropped the basket of garlic rolls that she'd intended to place on our table when Lester gave her his patented, panty-melting crooked smile.

She recovered quickly. "Can I start you both off with a selection from the bar?"

"I'll have a Corona," Lester said.

"Merlot for me."

"Sure," she said. "Are you ready to order?"

"Chicken marsala," Lester said. "Caesar salad with the dressing on the side."

"I'll have the fettuccini alfredo. And you can just smother my salad with the dressing." Just saying that, I could practically hear my arteries screaming in terror at what was to come. The waitress walked off with our orders stamped into her brain, and Lester was making googly eyes at me.

"What?" I asked him, smiling wryly.

"Oh, nothing. Can't wait to eat, that's all." He helped himself to a garlic roll. "Can you have one of these, too, please? I don't want to be the only one with garlic breath."

I laughed and forked a roll onto my appetizer plate. Lester's iPhone buzzed then, and he took it out of the pocket in his dress pants to check the readout. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"It's Bobby in Control," Lester said, hitting the screen to answer it. "Santos…I'm at dinner, man…I'm on a date…don't worry about with who…can't this wait?...fuck it…I'll call you in thirty." He tossed the iPhone onto the table and began to bite another chunk off of his garlic roll. "They got a lead on this guy we're looking for, Jacky Humphreys. Said he's at LAX waiting for a plane to Mexico."

"Wait a second. Jacky Humphreys? The guy who creamed his wife with that golf club?" I let out a hoot of laughter and quickly sobered as both Lester and I ducked down to make sure Ranger didn't hear and find us together, clearly on a date. "He's gone FTA before. You should have seen Lula and me trying to haul his ass back to the clink in her Firebird. He was naked. Seems as if we always get the naked ones. You guys never do."

"I know." Lester's eyes sparkled happily. He was _so hot._ "That time he had gotten locked up for setting that dead raccoon carcass on fire."

"Of course he was drunk," I pointed out. "No one soberly sets fire to a dead animal." I finished off my third garlic roll and wiped my greasy fingers on my napkin. The waitress with the googly eyes for Lester came by then, with our drinks. She set Lester's Corona in front of him and poured me out a glass of red wine.

"It will just be a few more minutes for your food," she explained. "I'm Lisa if you need anything." Lisa removed our empty roll basket and took off. Lester took a chug of his beer and watched as I gingerly sipped my merlot.

"Want to trade?" I asked him, holding up my wine glass.

He smiled. "Nope."

* * *

I pushed my chair back from the table and gave a huge sigh. I had my napkin on my lap and it was pulled up to cover the bulge of my bloated stomach. I had eaten _way_ too much. Lester was munching happily on his dressing-less salad and his mushroomy chicken. Damn, the guy had some serious self-control. I, on the other hand, had managed to finish all of the alfredo and every single lettuce leaf of my creamy-Italian saturated salad.

"Do you want dessert?" Lester asked me.

"No, thanks." Liar. I could feel the cannolis and tiramisu squares eyeing me from the pastry case up front. I didn't want Lester to think I was a huge porker, but he's known me long enough to know that I enjoy my junk food more than just about anything.

Lester shrugged. "Okay, that's cool. I could go for a cannoli or two, though." He flagged down our waitress and, of course, she came right over.

"Did you need something, sir?" she said to Lester. I caught her slip her eyes to the gun at his hip and her cheeks reddened. Nothing like a sexy guy with a gun to give women a hot flash.

"I'd like two cannolis to go, please."

"Of course." She smiled and took off towards the pastry case. I watched Ranger's little Lolita eat her grilled chicken pasta primavera and began to feel guilty about the train wreck of carbs and cholesterol that I'd just Hoovered down. Ranger was, of course, sipping black coffee and looking pretty relaxed. His hair was cut short and was falling across his forehead. His black silk shirt looked tailored to fit him, and his shoes probably cost more than the weapons of mass destruction. I also knew for a fact that he would most likely pay for their dinner with his AmEx Black Centurion credit card. I felt a little stab of envy at his date, but shook it off when the waitress returned with a small white paper bag containing Lester's cannolis. That sounded funny: Lester's cannolis. Truth be told, I was doubting that Lester's cannolis would even fit in that little white bakery bag.

"Anything else?" the waitress asked us, handing Lester a small black folder. He removed his wallet from his pants and extracted a credit card before handing it over to the waitress. He didn't even bother to look at the bill. I was guessing that Ranger paid his guys pretty well, since Lester had chosen a four-star restaurant as our first date and didn't even care to check out the price.

"That'll be all, thanks." Lester turned back to me and glanced behind me, towards the front of the restaurant. I saw his eyes go wide and the color drained from his face. "Shit. Ranger's getting up! Quick, go to the bathroom!"

_Fuck._ I scooted my chair back faster than lightning and began to creep around the table towards the door to the restrooms. Lester grabbed my arm.

"Too late, get under the table!" hissed Lester. "Before he sees you. _Shit_, he just spotted me! He's fucking coming over here!"

I quickly dropped to the floor in my dress and wedged myself underneath the table, ignoring the stares from the elderly couple seated next to us. I fixed the floor-length tablecloth and tried to get into a comfortable position so that I could hear what Lester and Ranger would say to each other. Lester's knee was bouncing up and down nervously and I saw Ranger's megabucks shoes approach the table through the gap from the tablecloth from the floor.

"Bossman," Lester said. He and Ranger must have done the complicated guy handshake because I heard their palms slap together. "I thought you had a business meeting, not a date."

"Date?" I heard Ranger chuckle. "Speaking of _date_, where's yours? Am I actually going to get to meet this one?"

"Um, unfortunately not," Lester said. "She suffers from...gastrostomachocolitis. They accidentally put anchovies in her pasta, and she reacts dangerously to them. She's in the bathroom right now, and she may be awhile."

I nearly got a hernia from holding in my laughter. I knew that there was **no** way Ranger would buy that, but then again…

"Sorry to hear that, Santos. You sure know how to pick them."

"Yeah," Lester muttered. "Likewise."

To my horror, the high heels of Ranger's little Lolita became visible through the gap from the floor to the edge of the tablecloth. She was coming up to the table! My stomach flip-flopped and I could only imagine Lester's horror.

"Is everything okay, Carlos? Hi, I'm Marisól," the woman said, presumably to Lester. Lester's knee was now bouncing at an uncontrollable pace. I pinched his calf through his pants and stifled a giggle when he nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Santos, this is my oldest sister Marisól. I believe you've met her before, at the RangeMan Christmas party this past year," Ranger said. At that moment, my heart stopped and I think I may have had a minor stroke. _Sister?_ Dear Lord. Lester and I were both going straight to hell in a hand basket for this one.

"No, you brought Andréa to that," Marisól said, sounding confused. Ranger laughed.

"Surely you remember Andréa, Santos."

"Of course," Lester said through clenched teeth. It was well-known around the Trenton offices that Lester had abused his privilege of use of the RangeMan gym's sauna last year with Andréa. I remember Ranger giving him the cold shoulder for nearly a month after the incident. Poor Lester.

"Oh. Marisól, this is Lester Santos. He's one of the most valuable players on the RangeMan team," said Ranger.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Lester. I've heard a lot about you. Carlos is actually thinking about making me a partner with the RangeMan Corporation. We met here for dinner tonight to discuss details."

I was mentally beating my head against the floor under the table. It never occurred to me that the woman could have been one of Ranger's siblings. She'd told the maître d' that her _date _was outside with the valet. I wasn't sure about the context of the word _date._ It could mean a romantic thing, or a business thing. Still, you hear _date_ and you think _sex afterwards_.

Ranger's voice shook me out of my stupor. "Marisól is interested in running the Boston office. I think it might be the breath of fresh air that RangeMan needs."

"Sure," Lester replied. "Sounds great." I heard footsteps approach the table and recognized the shiny black shoes of the maître d'.

"Ahem. I'm quite sorry to interrupt, Mr. Manoso, but the valet is waiting out front with your car."

"Thank you," Ranger said. The maître d' hurried away. "Well, it was good to see you, man. Tell your date that I hope she feels better."

"It was wonderful to meet you, Lester. I hope to see you again," gushed Marisól. I could just picture Marisól giving Lester one of her movie star grins. _Back off, lady…he's taken. _Wait. Was he? I didn't know the answer to that yet.

"Same here," Lester croaked out. He stood up to say goodbye and I saw Ranger and Marisól's shoes retreat from our table. A few seconds later, Lester poked his head under the tablecloth.

"Is it safe to come out?" I whispered. He nodded and smiled. I crawled out from under the table (not easy to do in four-inch FMP's and a slinky cocktail dress) and managed to collect myself without too many of the Erini's patrons ogling me disapprovingly.

"What is it with you and Ranger's sisters?" I hissed.

"Hey. I don't know, maybe they can't resist the Santos charm." Lester grinned wickedly and waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, you're so full of yourself. We should have gotten another table for your ego!"

"_Cálmate_, beautiful. My mind is on you twenty-four-seven." Lester hugged me to his front and planted a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my pulse point. I was beginning to think that we should probably leave the restaurant now, before our G-rated flick turned out to be too sexy of a movie for the general public.

The waitress returned just then with the credit card slip for Lester and a dirty look for me. He signed the slip, tipped her, and grabbed his bag of cannolis before leading me out of the restaurant.

When we were outside in the cool night air, I looked around fiercely for the Porsche, terrified that Ranger and his sister were still hanging around. Fortunately, Lester and I were the only ones in the parking lot. He gathered me into his arms and held onto me as we began to meander across the lot to his Escalade.

"Okay, so we're not ready to tell Ranger yet," I noted. "What are we so afraid to tell him for?"

Les sighed. "I don't have a fucking clue."

We left it at that. If it weren't for the fact that I felt like weighed seven hundred pounds, I'd have let him pick me up and carry me to the car. These stupid shoes were going in the very back of my closet as soon as we got up to my apartment.

I sighed. "About those cannolis," I began. "Are you going to eat both of them?"

* * *

Lester took his jacket off when we were both locked inside my apartment. He removed the gun from its holster and set both the gun and his badge on my dining room table. I watched as he toed off his shoes, untucked and unbuttoned his dress shirt, and draped it across one of the chairs, leaving him in a tight black tank top and his khaki-colored pants. My breath caught in my throat. He was purely a gorgeously sexy male, and he was in my apartment. _My_ apartment.

He caught me staring and smiled one of his outrageously adorable smiles. "Steph?"

"Yeah!" I snapped out of the stupor he'd put me in and hung my purse on the hook in my foyer. "Sorry." I headed to the living room to turn on a lamp and Lester was in the kitchen, messing around with the bag of cannolis.

"Can I eat this in your room?" he asked me, holding one up for me to see.

"Sure," I said. "If you want. I'm going to find a hiding place for these shoes and never think of them again." I held the shoes up and began to walk towards my darkened bedroom, Lester on my heels. He placed the cannoli on my bedside table and watched as I turned on a night-light. He flopped onto my bed and waited while I threw the shoes into the closet and slammed the door.

"Damn things," I muttered. I turned back towards him and smiled evilly. "I thought you were going to eat your cannoli."

"Not just yet," Lester assured me. I sauntered over to where he sat on the edge of my bed and stood in front of him, arms crossed.

"That filling can get kind of messy, Santos. Maybe I'll have you eat your cannoli in the kitchen."

"I want to eat my cannoli in here, though." He wrapped his arms around my waist and tugged me down onto the bed with him. We rolled over and stopped when he was situated between my legs. "You have two seconds to help me get this dress off of you." His voice had become a strangled whisper and thick with desire. I wordlessly inched the side zipper down until it was undone all the way, and Lester took over then. He lifted my arms out of the spaghetti straps and slipped them off of my shoulders, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. I lifted his tank top over his head, baring his outstanding body to my aching eyes. He wasn't disgustingly huge. He was all perfectly cut and toned muscle, washboard abs, and a back that begged to have me drag my tongue down its spine. Caramel-colored skin stretched smoothly over his muscles, and a dusting of fine black hair trailed from his belly button down to my favorite part of his anatomy.

Lester smoothed the dress down over my hips and discarded over the side of my bed, along with his tank top. He stared down at my nude curves wordlessly for a few seconds.

"What?" I asked him, suddenly feeling self conscious.

He shook his head sadly. "Nothing. Sometimes I feel like I'm a kid with a giant lollipop, and I'm afraid some bully is going to come and rip you out of my hands."

I yanked him down so that we were face to face, and I could feel his hot breath brush across my nose. "That will never happen," I whispered. I pressed my lips to his and he groaned. Lester broke the kiss long enough to shimmy out of his dress pants and socks and boxers, and then his lips were on mine again, seeking access to my mouth. When his tongue touched mine, I had tremendous doubt that any bully would ever tear us apart.

"I'd like to have my cannoli now, if you don't mind," Lester mumbled against my neck. Little strings of hot desire curled in my lower belly as I thought about what he might do with that cannoli.

"I don't mind," I replied breathlessly. I watched as Lester scooted off of me and retrieved the yummy Italian treat from my nightstand. He settled himself between my legs again and grinned wickedly.

"I mostly just like to eat the filling," he explained. "It's the best part." My eyes glazed over when he scooped a little bit of filling out of the cannoli with his finger. The glob of filling dropped precisely on my right nipple and I gasped at the cold sensation as the nipple hardened to a stiff pink peak. It was then that I knew his evil plan. "Whoops. I'd better get that."

Lester leaned his head down and flicked his hot tongue over the glob. He latched his lips around my entire nipple and I felt a gush of something hot and wet flow from between my legs. I groaned and held his face to my breast as he rolled his tongue across it. When he was done cleaning up his mess, I was dripping wet and writhing on the mattress. He dropped another glob of cannoli filling on my left nipple and I felt my lower pelvis contract with need.

He proceeded to lick the creamy filling off of me, nipping and biting gently as he increased the pressure of his tongue on my nipple. The sensations he was creating with his tongue alone brought me to orgasm and I cried out when he thrust two of his long, thick fingers deep inside of me as I rode out the wave.

"Lester!" I screamed as he focused his ministrations on the spongy spot deep within my inner walls. I couldn't control my body as I thrashed beneath him, unable to see through the blinding white spots. The orgasm had been building all night and it frightened me with its power.

"That's it, baby. Let it go," he mumbled against my neck. My thrashing calmed and I regained control of my breathing. He slowly withdrew his fingers from me and licked them clean, and I felt his length probing my swollen wetness. "I had planned on torturing you with this cannoli first." Lester smiled against my belly.

"You have no idea what you do to me," I whispered. I pulled him back up to my face and gazed into his chocolate brown eyes before I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. He tasted like me. I groaned and kissed him hungrily, sliding my tongue against his, feeling his fingertips dig into the flesh of my hips as he fought to keep control.

"I do now." Lester buried his face in my neck as he lifted one of my legs and hooked it around his shoulder. "You ready for this?"

I nodded, too aroused to speak. He plunged himself into me in one fluid motion. Both of us cried out at the intense feeling and Lester broke into an outpouring of rapid Spanish. I recognized _woman_ and _good, _and possibly _Christ._ Hearing his voice hoarsely revert back to his native tongue had me dripping wet for him and when he started to move inside of me I came undone.

We moved together like a well-orchestrated symphony, feeling each other and responding to one another's touches and soft moans. At one point, Lester wordlessly withdrew from me and rolled onto his back, gently pulling me with him so my chest was flush against his with my bottom in the air.

I lifted my hips and slowly sank down onto him as I watched his face. His eyes flashed fire and he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, his hands clutching my cheeks as he sat me down onto his length all the way.

The feeling was incredible. Waves of heat shot through me as I adjusted to the way he was buried inside me, and I could feel him deliciously stretching my insides. His fingers tripped down my stomach to ground zero and he brushed his thumb over my swollen, aching clit. I gasped.

"Move for me, beautiful." Lester lifted my butt with his hands to urge me on, letting me drop back down onto his hips with a soft _thwack_. I rocked gently against him, watching his reaction to my movements, and the pressure began to build deep in my lower pelvis. I could feel the tingling in my spine and the waves of heat flowing through my legs, and Lester sensed I was close.

He thrust up one last time and flipped us over so that he was hovering over me with my legs wrapped tightly around his hips after he'd pushed into me. A bead of sweat from his hair line dripped down onto the thin gold chain and crucifix he wore around his neck and landed on my chest, and Lester dipped his head down to kiss it away. I pulled his face to mine and stared straight into his eyes.

"Harder," I growled. I wrapped my legs tighter around him and he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in again with such a force that I scooted two feet up the bed.

"_Fuck_," Lester growled. "God, you feel so good." He buried his face in the pillow next to me as he worked me over, both of us gasping for breath and mumbling words of encouragement. At last, Lester began thrusting harder and faster, and I knew his release was near. He took my right nipple between two of his fingers and tugged gently, and the stingy pain mixed with pleasure was all it took to send me flying off the ledge into a pool of molten heat. One of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had in my life came crashing down on me and I couldn't stop it. It was coming like a semi barreling down the highway and then I broke, and tears were dripping from my eyes as I felt my lower half begin to spasm out of control.

And then there was Lester, who was moaning into my neck with one hand wound into my hair and the other shakily holding himself over me. He began to rocket in and out of me and finally spilled himself deep within my body with a scream loud enough to wake the slumbering seniors downstairs, sans hearing aids.

We lay completely still when we were done, shell-shocked by the sheer sexual power we had over each other. I couldn't catch my breath. Lester was tucked inside my body, still hard. I could feel his heart pounding out of his ribcage at around two hundred beats per minute. He dragged his head up and nuzzled his cheek against mine to blot away my tears. He was sweaty, so he only succeeded in smearing them.

There was a cell phone ringing coming from somewhere in the apartment. I didn't recognize the tune, so I figured it was coming from Lester's phone.

"Shit," he breathed. "I forgot to call Bobby in Control when I left the restaurant." He picked himself up off my mattress and slowly withdrew himself from my body. He kissed me quickly and I watched him walk naked out of my bedroom and pad down the hall to where his things were, in the dining room. "What?" I heard him ask, his voice deep and scratchy. "I know, man. Sorry…no, I'm not back at Haywood…I'll be home in the morning…fuck you, man." I heard a hint of smile in his voice. He was silent, listening to Bobby talk as he walked back into my bedroom and lay back down on the bed, gathering me in his arms. "Shit, seriously? LAX? When's the next flight to Tijuana…oh, then we have time…I'll get Steph to do the distraction…I have no idea what she's doing…I'll call her now. Peace."

Lester hung up and tossed his phone towards the end of the bed. "Jacky Humphreys is at LAX, hoping with all of his cold, dark heart to board a plane bound for Mexico tonight. The next one leaves at eleven tomorrow morning, so he's S.O.L."

"Let me guess," I said. "We're all going to be headed to L.A. to get this freak. And you all want ME to lure him in so you can move in for the kill, right?"

Lester laughed. "Something like that."

"Great," I muttered. "When do we leave?"

"Tank's setting things up with Connie from the bonds office right now. I have to call him back and let him know you'll go with us. Start getting your stuff together, because they want to leave ASAP. I'll just take you back to Haywood with me and tell the guys I picked you up."

I sighed and went over to my closet. "Slutty or sexy?" I asked, holding up two of my distraction outfits. Lester came up to me and pretended to think hard about both choices.

"Hmmm. I'll have to go with sexy." He tossed both of the barely-there scraps of material onto the bed and pulled me into him. He smelled delicious and was all warm and damp from earlier.

"Your call, Santos." I kissed him with a smile and pulled away. We were going to Los Angeles, California. I had some packing to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for the awesome reviews! I've been bad this week and haven't been studying...oh well. Glad you're all enjoying the story! **

**Warning: Rated M for language and smut (of course).**

Lester's POV

We'd set up a rendezvous in the RangeMan underground garage prior to hauling ass to Newark Airport. Connie, being the good little office manager that she was, booked the five of us on a one o'clock a.m. first-class flight to LAX and had two suites on reserve at the Marriott Renaissance near the airport. Hal was responsible for making sure we had all the necessary equipment and weapons for our capture. I was responsible for communications and Intel. Bobby was responsible for keeping everyone safe and accounted for, and for transportation arrangements. Steph was responsible for being Psycho Bait, and Tank was being bossy as hell and was responsible for making sure we behaved like humans while not in Ranger's presence. Bobby, Hal, Steph, and I all stood crowded around our luggage and equipment, waiting for Tank to give us orders.

"Listen up," Tank boomed, joining our group. "Bossman says to behave and act professionally. He's counting on us to get this freak. I've got a deal worked out with the county of Los Angeles when we capture him."

"Oh, yeah?" I countered.

Tank glared at me. "Yeah. All we have to do is tag him and bring him back to LAPD headquarters. They'll extradite him back to Trenton for us, but Vinnie'll have to pay money to make that happen. I've already spoken to him, and he's okay with that. If we don't nab Humphreys in Cali, and he ends up going to Mexico, the U.S. Marshals will have to step in."

"So why doesn't a bounty hunter from Los Angeles go get this guy? Why does it have to be us?" Steph asked Tank.

"Because there isn't another bondsman or bounty hunter in L.A. that writes bonds for the same surety company that Vinnie writes bonds for. It would be illegal."

"Sounds fair," Hal said. "At least we don't have to drag him back with us on the plane."

We were taking my Escalade and Tank's Navigator to the airport and we were planning to leave them in the long-term parking lot. Since we weren't sure when we'd return to Jersey, Connie had booked us a one-way flight.

"We only have two hours before our plane leaves," announced Stephanie. "It's almost eleven. If we haul ass, we can make it to Newark in forty-five minutes."

Tank's cell rang. He spoke quietly for a few minutes and hung up. "That was the informant in Los Angeles. They just told me that Humphreys wasn't able to get on that eleven o'clock flight to Tijuana, so he had to book the noon flight to Mexico City instead. That buys us about an hour, people."

Hell yeah, that bought us some time. An hour was an hour. I breathed a sigh of relief and tossed my Nike duffel bag into the trunk of my Escalade. The bags were now all loaded in, including Steph's. I slammed the trunk shut and used my key remote to power up the SUV.

"Did you bring my laptop?" I asked Hal. He walked up to me and handed over a black zippered case containing my computer and all the necessary Jacky Humphreys paperwork. I tossed it into my truck.

"Everything's in there." Hal picked up the last of the equipment cases and loaded it into Tank's Navigator. "We're just waiting on Bobby to confirm the rental cars." We glanced in Bobby's direction. He was standing in a corner of the garage, on his cell to Hertz. We needed two SUVs for us and all of our equipment, and thank God the rental car place at the airport was open 24 hours.

"Lula's not so happy with us right now. She found out we're all going to L.A. and Vinnie's making her stay behind to chase down my skips." Steph snickered. "Bless her heart." I put my arm around her and drew her close to me, breathing in her girly scent. I dropped an affectionate kiss on her forehead and before I realized what I was doing, Hal gave me a strange look. Shit. I quickly scuttled towards the driver's side of my SUV and threw open the door.

"Yo!" shouted Bobby. He jogged over to where we all stood. "It's done. Two Ford Expeditions, with our names on them. It'll be 3:30 in the damn morning by the time we get to Cali because of the time difference, and those motherfuckers are open all night. Hallelujah!"

I clapped him on the back. "Yeah, we're aware of that. But it's good to know we got the car situation taken care of." Bobby made a face and slugged me on the arm.

"Fuck you, man. I'm riding shotgun." Bobby began to open the passenger's side door, but Stephanie ran up behind him and squirmed her way under his arm. Before he knew what was happening, she'd climbed up into my truck and seated herself with a smirk on her gorgeous face.

"Looks like you're backseat driver, Brown," she said, her voice tinkling and her eyes sparkling. Bobby knew better than to say anything sassy, so he calmly walked to the back of the Escalade and opened the back door. He hauled himself up to the middle seat and sighed after shutting himself inside.

"Plum, I swear…" he trailed off. I looked out my rearview mirror and spotted Tank and Hal buckling themselves into the Navigator. I just hoped we'd remembered to bring everything we needed. Luckily the guys had packed the equipment while Steph and I were still at the restaurant. That saved us some time. We rolled out of the RangeMan garage at eleven oh-five. We were all punch-happy and exhausted already, and we had a long-ass night ahead of us.

* * *

At Newark Airport, the Skycap tagged our four equipment cases and loaded them onto the conveyor belt. Since we had first-class tickets, he didn't charge us that damn "checked-bag fee." We showed him our photo IDs, gathered up our duffel bags, and trooped into the airport like we were invading Bosnia. Tank and I had already parked our SUVs in long-term parking, and had taken the shuttle back to the American Airlines terminal. It was twelve-thirty in the morning, and Steph's eyes looked a little bit droopy. Hal, Tank, and Bobby were ahead of us, eager to get in line to pick up our tickets. Steph and I lagged behind.

"Need caffeine?" I asked her as we passed a Dunkin' Donuts.

She shook her head. "I don't want to have to use the plane's bathroom."

"I feel you. But you never know. You might have to." We joined the guys at the ticket counter and presented our IDs again. We were each given a boarding pass and were directed towards the security line. Luckily, the airport wasn't very crowded at this time of night, and we were able to get through the checkpoint pretty quickly. Bobby and Tank had even remembered to put their personal weapons through the checked baggage and hadn't "forgotten" that they had any dangerous goodies still left in their pockets.

When we boarded the plane, there was a small scuffle at who got to sit where. The first-class rows were three across. We had seats 4-A, 5-A, 6-A, 10-B and 11-B. Two of us would have to sit directly behind the remaining three of us.

"Second row," Stephanie and I both exclaimed together. With that, we jumped in front of the guys and ended up in a jumbled mess of bags and bodies in Row B.

"Oh, come on!" whined Hal. "I wanted to sit there!"

"Too late, Tony Touch." I climbed out from the row and opened the overhead bin to stow my duffel bag. Steph handed me her bag and I put it with mine.

"Dammit, Santos," Hal grumbled. He turned to me. "What, are you twelve today?"

"Dominguez, glue your ass in a seat and shut up," boomed Tank. He stowed his bag overhead and buckled himself into the Row A window seat in front of Steph and I. The plane wasn't full. There were only about eight other people in first class with us, and they were buckled into their seats, glaring at us disapprovingly. We must have looked insane. Four huge, muscled mercenaries and a beautiful, curvaceous brunette on a family vacation to L.A.

Hal reluctantly took the seat next to Tank, and Bobby slid into the aisle seat. Steph buckled herself into the window seat next to me. Luckily, the third person who was supposed to be in our row had decided not to show up. The first-class seats were huge and leather. As tall as the guys were, I really couldn't see their heads over the tops of the seats.

Bobby whirled around to look at me and Steph. "Can I come sit with you guys? Dominguez keeps bouncing his knee and it's driving me nuts." Bobby frowned.

"Actually, I just heard the person behind me say that the lady who's supposed to be sitting next to us will be on the plane shortly." Stephanie smiled sadly.

"Oh." Bobby nodded and turned back around. I gaped at Steph incredulously. She had some serious fibbing skills. Bobby had actually bought it.

"Nice," I whispered to her. She grinned evilly. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood in front of the overhead compartment to root around in my duffel bag for my iPod. When I located it, I searched Steph's bag for her iPod and tossed it to her. I plopped back down and re-buckled my seatbelt.

"Thanks," Steph said to me, grinning again.

I whispered in her ear. "Anytime, baby." I scrolled through my list of songs and decided on some throwback Big Pun jams. We hooked ourselves up to our music and Steph craned her neck to see around the guys' seats in front of us. She must have been satisfied with what she saw, because she slouched down in her seat and pulled me to her by the front of my white tee shirt. I felt her warm lips kiss up my neck and she gently bit my earlobe. I clutched her waist with my left hand to get control, because I was losing it. Fast. She pulled out the earphone that was in the ear she was nibbling on and whispered to me.

"Lester, you are _so hot_," Steph breathed.

"Think so?" I mumbled against her neck before biting it gently.

"_God_, yes."

"And you are _so_ fucking _sexy_…" I trailed off, thinking I wouldn't mind checking if the plane's bathroom could fit the both of us. Probably not. I groaned softly against her mouth and sucked her bottom lip between my teeth. I had _just_ managed to slide my right hand under her tank top and had worked my fingertips up to the edge of her bra when…

_DING!_ _"Welcome to American Airlines Flight 807, with service from Newark to Los Angeles, California. This is your captain Eric Steppe, along with your co-captain Nick Papadakos. We will be taking off in approximately three minutes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened until the seatbelt light goes off. Thank you and enjoy your flight to Los Angeles with American Airlines." _

"Fuck," I hissed, leaning back in the seat with my head on the headrest. I gripped the arm rails with white knuckles and squeezed my eyes shut. The engines of the 747 fired up and I felt the plane gently jerk backwards as we taxied away from the gate.

"Crap," Steph mumbled from next to me. Her cheeks were flushed with arousal and her bottom lip was swollen where I'd bitten into it. Suddenly, Bobby whipped around in his seat and grinned at us like a fool.

"Cali, here we come, baby!" he exclaimed. Several passengers that were curled up with blankets and pillows shushed him and frowned. Bobby quickly turned back around and ducked low in his seat, his light brown cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Steph giggled and shook her head.

We watched while the flight attendants did their thing with the safety demonstration. Most of the cabin lights in the plane had been turned off, with the exception of the tiny lights lining the aisle floor. Tank and Hal had blankets and pillows and had reclined their seats. Bobby was watching YouTube on his iPhone.

I, on the other hand, was completely wired and unable to settle down. For one thing, I was horny as _fuck _and unable to do shit about it. Second of all, I knew that if we fucked up this capture then we'd all have to face Ranger. And facing Ranger after a bust goes bad is not something I look forward to doing. Or any of us, for that matter.

The plane suddenly rocketed down the runway and catapulted itself into the air. We were off to Los Angeles. Land of Hollywood celebrity gossip, smog, endless traffic, and some of the best beaches in the country. Steph had reclined her seat and was watching me with her iPod going. God, she was so damned beautiful.

"You okay?" she asked me softly. I nodded and blew out a frustrated breath. I put my iPod back on and leaned back in my seat to try to relax.

Twenty minutes into the flight, Tank and Hal were snoring and Bobby had also finally succumbed to the Sandman. I watched Stephanie take off her iPod beside me. She unbuckled her seatbelt, stood up and peered over the seats of the guys in front of us, and sat back down. She reached up to the flight attendant call light, pressed it, and smiled innocently at me.

"What?" she asked me defensively. "I'm cold. I want a blanket." The flight attendant stopped next to our row.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'd like a blanket, please," Steph said to her. The flight attendant reached into an overhead compartment and removed a blanket before handing it to Stephanie. "Thanks." When the flight attendant had walked away, Steph gave one last glance to the slumbering guys in front of us and settled into her seat with the blanket draped over her front. _Come here,_ she mouthed to me. Hell yeah, I'll come here. I took off my iPod and squinted through the darkness at the elderly couple in the row beside us. They were asleep with their backs turned away from us. The flight attendants were seated in the front galley with coffee cups.

Steph and I switched seats without any noise so that I was up against the window now. I covered both of us completely with the soft blanket and we reclined our seats back as far as they would go. Steph had her legs Indian-style and tucked underneath her bottom beneath the blanket. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her gently.

"Lester…" she whispered.

"Yeah, Steph?" I placed my lips on her chin and moved hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. I felt her take my hand and move it to her belly, just underneath her tank top. I got the message. I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and my hand delved beneath the elastic waist of her tiny panties. Steph gasped softly when my fingers brushed up against her soaked folds. My index finger gathered some of her wetness and slowly circled her clit until she was gripping my forearm with white knuckles.

"Now," she commanded in a hoarse whisper. I buried my face in her neck and thrust two fingers deep inside of her. Steph stifled a small scream and her blue eyes went wide before squeezing shut. I was hard beyond belief and slightly lightheaded because of it. The unbelievably sexy woman writhing next to me was almost too much to handle and I was afraid I might snap and do something crazy, like fuck her senseless in the middle of a cross-country flight with the other half of Ranger's A-Team asleep in front of us. I felt her insides become tighter and tighter around my fingers as the dam threatened to burst and carry her over the edge, and she got all flushed and sweaty.

"Shhhh," I warned into her ear. "Come for me, baby." Almost instantaneously, the dam broke and Stephanie squeezed around my fingers, whimpering her release into my shoulder. She came long and hard, quietly gulping her way through the powerful orgasm and looking damn sexy doing it, too. I wanted her _so bad._ I couldn't believe that I actually had her. Wait. Did I?

I slowly withdrew my fingers from her body and brought them up to my mouth to lick them clean. Steph pulled my face to hers and kissed me hungrily, rubbing her tongue against mine, enjoying the taste of herself on my lips. I pulled away and rested my forehead on hers with my eyes shut to regain my composure.

Holy fuck. Stephanie had just let me feel her up on a plane to Los Angeles to go catch a skip with the guys in front of us and a blanket covering our bodies to cover up our actions. She snuggled up to my side and leaned her head on my shoulder, and I heard her sigh. She was falling asleep, and I had never been more awake. For the rest of the flight, I just sat and watched her breathe steadily in and out. Somewhere over West Virginia, I fell asleep.

* * *

When we landed at LAX, we got our bags out of the overhead compartments and trudged off the plane. Bobby appeared to still be asleep. Tank, ever-vigilant, was sizing up everyone he saw. Hal still had his iPod on and seemed indifferent about being in a place as cool as L.A. Stephanie and I lagged after the guys.

"Brown and Dominguez: baggage claim," ordered Tank. "Santos and Bomber: rental car place."

"Ten-four," I said, dragging Steph towards Hertz. We stepped up to the counter and Stephanie smiled brightly at the gangly kid behind it. His attitude looked to be as bad as Lula's when she was hungry. I _never _want to be around Lula when she's hungry.

"Hi," Steph said to the kid. "We're picking up two rental cars."

"What's the name, brah?" the kid said lamely.

"Um, I think it's under RangeMan," she said, turning to me. I shrugged. Bobby had made the reservation, not me. The kid tapped away on a computer keyboard and rolled his eyes.

"Ken will take you dudes to the lot." He pointed to another kid, also dark-tanned with bleach-blond hair. Ken looked to be about eighteen years old and appeared to spend most of his time underneath a surfboard.

"How's it?" asked Ken. He held his fist out to me and attempted a knuckle bump, but dropped his hand when I made no move to touch his.

"How's it what?" I asked Ken.

"Never mind. You must be from up north or something. I've got your epic rides ready and waiting." Ken headed out of Hertz and Steph and I followed him to a small lot near the terminal. Two black Expeditions sat near the front. Ken had brought some paperwork outside with him and began jotting things down on a clipboard.

"So. Do we get the keys?" I asked him after a few minutes.

"Just sign these cosmic papers first, brah. Right here on el dotted line-o." Ken showed me where to sign and whipped the papers out of my hands when I was done. "Rad." Ken took two sets of keys from his outrageously-baggy shorts pocket and tossed them to Stephanie.

"They talk weird in L.A.," Steph whispered to me.

"I think it's because they spend so much time baking their brains out in the sun," I whispered back. "Thanks for your help, man." I clapped Ken on the back and took a set of keys from Steph.

"No problemo, dude. Sorry that Cougar in there was such a buzz kill. He hates working the graveyard shift." Ken headed inside. Flashbacks of Mooner Dunphy quickly fleeted through my brain.

"No kidding." Stephanie and I each got behind the wheel of an Expedition and she followed me out of the lot. We met up at the arrivals area and she lined up behind me. Tank, Bobby, and Hal were waiting with our equipment and their duffel bags. Tank began directing traffic and barking orders once Steph and I had exited the SUVs.

"I just spoke with our informant, everybody. Humphreys is no longer here at the airport, of course. They think he may have gotten a hotel room for the night. We're not sure where yet, but it's somewhere in town. He also might be using an alias. Santos, I want you and Bomber in the Expedition with the GPS. I'll drive the other one, and the equipment. We'll rendezvous at our hotel. Let's roll, everybody." Tank meant business.

We sprang into action. The guys all loaded their duffel bags in my SUV and we helped them load the equipment into theirs. When the cars were packed, Steph punched the hotel's address into the GPS and we took off with Tank practically on our bumper. It was quarter to four in the morning, Los Angeles time.

I reached over the center console and grabbed Stephanie's hand. "Hey." I smiled at her and kissed her palm.

"Hey." She returned the grin and blushed. "We're going to be roomies, right?"

"Damn right." I let the GPS lead me out of the airport terminal and down the road to 96th Street. After a couple of turns, we were pulling into the monstrous driveway of the Renaissance Marriott.

"This is nice," Steph remarked. "Good work, Connie." I had to agree. I pulled under the overhang and parked in front of the main doors. Tank pulled up behind me and we all got out to regroup.

"So we'll check in, get ready to go, and start canvassing the area," Tank said. We followed him inside with our stuff on the fancy luggage carts. Bobby and Tank checked us in at the front desk and started handing out room keys.

"Santos, pick a room." Tank held out two different key cards. I chose four-seventy.

"Steph?" Tank asked her.

"I'll room with Lester," she said, taking the second four-seventy key card from Tank. Bobby nudged me and leaned close to my ear.

"First y'all were plane seat buddies. Then SUV buddies. Now roomies?" he whispered.

"Hey. She's in a weird place with a bunch of guys. And she's being used as Psycho Bait again. I guess she just feels comfortable with me."

"Aiight," Bobby said, uncertainty in his voice. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Trust me. I do." I began wheeling the rolling cart with the communications equipment towards the elevator. The guys and Steph followed close behind, and when we were crammed into the elevator no one spoke until we got off. Tank, Bobby, and Hal located room four-eighty and Steph and I tried the door on four-seventy. She swiped the key card and as soon as the green light went on, the door clicked open.

"Yesss," I hissed. I had to piss like a motherfucker. Stephanie and I took our duffel bags and the communications equipment inside the room and locked up behind us. I hauled ass into the bathroom and took care of business while Stephanie tried out the king-sized beds.

"These are really comfortable," I heard her exclaim. I washed my hands and went out into the room where she was. She saw me and got up from the bed, and sauntered slowly over to where I was standing by the door. A wicked gleam shot through her eyes and I knew exactly what that meant.

"Are you tired?" I asked her, using my body to back her up against the hotel room door. My voice had gone deep and rough, like I had just woken up. She wordlessly shook her head, still grinning wickedly.

"Are you?" Steph asked me. The question was moot. I wasn't the least bit tired. My massive erection was pressed into her belly and her eyes glazed over. I needed to be inside of her more than anything at that moment. I unzipped her jeans and yanked them over her hips before undoing my belt buckle. She caught my eyes and held my stare as she let my pants fall to the floor, along with my boxers. She took me in her hand and my breath caught in my throat as she softly slid her fingers down my length, tormenting the hell out of me and causing me to hiss. Dios _mio_.

I lifted her knee against my hip and thrust into her then, and I couldn't stop the moan that escaped from my throat. She felt like hot silk around me, so tight that it almost hurt. God, I needed this so bad. I needed _her _so bad. She clung to me as we moved together in a rhythmless union. Her bare ass was pressed up against the door and I was holding her leg against my hip with a death grip. And when she shattered into absolute pieces, she pulled me with her. Christ.

Stephanie lay draped across my shoulder as I carried her over to the bed and gently set her down on her back. I moved to hover over her, and I pushed inside of her again. Four, five, six hard thrusts were all I needed to be sent spiraling over the edge again. I leaned down and took Stephanie's nipple into my mouth through her tank top and she came hard then, clenching around me like a vise with my name on her lips.

"Shit, beautiful." My breath blasted down onto her neck as we slowly regained feeling in our legs. Steph couldn't really talk yet, so I settled for kissing her softly before rolling off of her onto my side.

"I need a shower," she announced weakly. Steph rolled off of the bed after kissing me and headed towards the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. I located my jeans and boxers and slid them on, then exited the hotel room with the communications equipment. I banged on the guys' door and Tank threw it open.

"Damn, Santos." Tank whistled as I barreled past him and into the room. He shut the door behind me and came to stand next to Bobby. "You look like you just had hard, rough sex."

I did. I glanced in the mirror behind me. Swollen lips, sweaty face and neck, messed-up hair, crooked shirt and pants. Bobby and Hal exchanged a suspicious look.

"Hunh. I wish. I just had to run down to the truck to get something," I said. "I brought the two-ways and all of the other stuff." I opened the communications case and tossed everybody their two-ways, their chargers, and their wires.

"We just heard from the informant," Bobby spoke up. "Word on the street is that he's holed up at an EconoLodge in east L.A. I figured we'd start there."

Hal handed me a flak vest with FUGITIVE RECOVERY stitched on the back in big white letters, my Glock 9mm, a butterfly knife, and a Sig Sauer P220 Equinox.

"Tell Stephanie to get ready," Bobby said. "Not too slutty, but not grandma-ish, either." He and Hal snickered and did their signature lame-ass knuckle bump.

I had nothing even close to a comment to say back to that, so I grabbed the half-empty communications case and all the goodies Hal had given me and left the room. Stephanie was getting dressed when I got back to our suite.

"Hal says to be not-too-slutty," I told her. "When I'm done in the shower, I'll get us wired." I threw my weapons onto the bed and joined her in the bathroom. She was putting on tight low-rise flared-leg jeans, four-inch FMPS, and a pretty black tank top that showed off her cleavage. I suddenly felt my pants grow too tight.

"Is this okay?" she asked me. I growled deep in my chest and nuzzled my face into her neck.

"It's definitely distracting," I mumbled. "I'm a goner."

Stephanie laughed. "Good." She put the finishing touches on her outfit and fluffed her hair into cascading brown curls. I got the shower going and stepped in while Stephanie completed her makeup near the dresser. I was clean in no time and dried off before coming into the room in nothing but a towel.

Steph had my duffel bag open and was searching for clothes for me to put on. "Cargoes? Black tee shirt? Shit-stomping boots?" She held out a pair of boxers and I swiped them from her.

"All of the above." I stretched a black tank top over my head and stepped into some baggy black cargoes. "Wire first." I located my two-way from the communications case and clipped it to the back of my belt. I ran the wire up my back and secured the earpiece. I put on a black tee shirt, laced up my boots, and started strapping on weapons.

Glock on my right hip. Illegal butterfly knife clipped to the inside of my pocket. Cell in front pants pocket. Sig strapped to my leg, under the cargoes. Black White Sox cap on backwards, boots on and laced up, flak vest strapped across my chest and back, and a fucking partridge in a pear tree.

Stephanie's eyes darkened as she stared at me standing in front of her. I knew that look. It would have taken _way _too long to get all that gear off, so I settled for kissing her thoroughly with a lot of tongue to try and quell our hormones for the time being. She sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as I sorted through the communications case for her two-way. I came up with the wireless mic we usually had her wear when she did distractions for us and switched it to our frequency.

"You know the drill," I reminded her. "This picks up everything you say, so be careful. You'll still be able to hear all of us. Don't be scared."

"You say that every time," Steph said sullenly. She took the mic out of my hand and stuck it in her ear, scowling at me the whole time. I put our room key in my wallet and put my wallet in the back pocket of my cargoes. It was time to move out and get this freak.

"Mic check," I announced into my wire.

"Ten-four," Tank replied. Bobby and Hal recited their "checks."

"Let's roll." I helped Stephanie up off the bed and we crept out into the hallway, letting the door slam behind us. I backed her against it and bathed her neck with my tongue.

"Shhhh," she mouthed to me, pointing to the receiver of her wire. "The guys'll hear us."

"You look so hot," I whispered, clutching her lower hips with my hands and inhaling her scent deeply. I knew it was crazy to be out in the open like this with her, but the United States Marine Corps took less time to mobilize than Bobby and Hal.

"Think I can distract our guy tonight?" Steph teased me, wrapping her arms around my neck and playing with the coil to my earpiece.

"If not, he's either blind as a fucking bat or really, really stupid." I bent my head down to nibble on her bottom lip. She opened her mouth then, and my tongue swept inside to taste hers. The groan she made was enough to drive me out of my mind and when the door to suite four-eighty clicked open ten feet from us, neither Steph nor I heard the guys' three jaws drop to the ground. My fingers were millimeters away from her lace-covered nipple when –

"Holy fuck," Bobby exclaimed. _Damn._

**Yikes! What will the guys do now that they've discovered Steph and Lester's secret? Next chapter coming soon, I promise!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the lack of updating in awhile, but it's that time of year for final exams! Good luck to all of you readers who are stuck taking them within the next couple of weeks! I hope you're enjoying my newest story, **_**Oh, Baby! **_**which will be updated soon. As always, thank you for the wonderful reviews and encouragement. --Jill**

Steph's POV

_Great_, I thought. _Just dandy._ Here I am, in a hallway, pressed up against a hotel suite door with Santos's amazing tongue in my mouth and giving Ranger's Merry Men a live showing of the Stephanie and Lester Variety Hour. We froze, mid-kiss. Nobody spoke for what seemed like hours after Bobby's rather vulgar outburst. Finally, Hal found his voice as Lester pushed off of my body and hung his head, his swollen bottom lip pinched between two fingers.

"Santos," Hal crackled out. He stalled out after that. I really didn't blame him. Tank took over then.

"Just what the fuck is going on here?" he boomed, crossing his arms over his huge chest and starting towards us.

Really, it wasn't what it looked like. Honest…okay, okay. Who the hell was I kidding? It was **exactly** what it looked like. All I could think about at that moment was the fact that our secret was finally out. I didn't know whether to be relieved by that notion or terrified that Ranger might find out and fire us both. Or worse, never speak to me again. I knew that even though he couldn't give me what I wanted and needed from him emotionally, he would still be hurt that I'd managed to find those things in one of his best friends and right-hand men.

"Tank, man –

Bobby cut Lester off. "You know what? Don't mind us, right guys?" He looked from Tank to Hal and then back to Lester and I. "Just continue on with what you were doing. Sorry to interrupt." With that, Bobby turned on the heel of his boot and snatched up the two cases of equipment that he'd brought out into the hall with him. He started stalking down the corridor towards the hotel elevator with the cases. Hal jogged after him and caught his arm, but Bobby angrily snatched it out of his grip. I watched as the elevator doors opened up and Bobby and Hal disappeared inside with the equipment.

I was mortified and felt lower than slug slime, still leaning against the stupid door with my head hung shamefully and my arms crossed over my chest. The guys were angry with us, and I wasn't quite sure why. Until Tank stepped into Lester's personal space with his finger poking into Lester's bulletproof vest, his voice low and menacing.

"Santos," he started. He breathed out slowly through his flared nostrils and turned his glare to me. His face softened when I looked up at him, my eyes wide with worry and my cheeks red with embarrassment. "Steph, I need a word with Santos."

I nodded. I wasn't about to be present and accounted for when Tank rearranged Lester's genitals so that he could pee out of his asshole. Lester handed me our room key card and I quietly let myself back into the suite. After powering up the TV, I flopped onto the bed and settled for watching a late-night _Family Guy_ rerun. Okay, okay. I lied. You know I had my ear pressed to the door the second I'd clicked it shut. But in my mind, I _wasn't_ eavesdropping on Tank and Lester. That counts, right?

I heard Tank's voice growl, "We all trusted you with her. Most importantly, Ranger trusts you with her. Fuck, Lester! If he knew about this –

"Why the fuck would he care?" Lester sneered belligerently. "She doesn't belong to him. She's not his girlfriend. They're not even together!"

"That's not the point and you know it," Tank gritted out. "You know they have some sort of a history. Besides, RangeMan is a business. A highly-classified, extremely professional business of security experts and bond enforcement. Ranger doesn't usually employ women for this exact reason. And you, of all people, should know that. Stephanie is a very intelligent woman. She's loyal, and kind-hearted, and she'd probably kick any one of our asses if she was motivated enough. She's special to all of us, man. I just can't believe this." Tank grew silent. I bit my lip and hung my head again. I hated to be the cause of this much trouble between two friends, even if I was in a sort-of relationship with one of them.

"You're damn right she's special," exclaimed Lester. "Do you think I'm just fucking around here? She's not just anybody! This is Stephanie we're talking about. It's different between me and her. Christ, I have no idea what's going on with us, Tank. But I'd like to live long enough to find out!"

"Ranger _would_ have your intestines displayed on the mats in no time," Tank agreed. His voice softened a bit. "Look. We've flown all the way to Los Angeles to serve a purpose. This capture is a very big deal for all involved. We need to focus and get this guy before he slips through our fingers, which is what will happen if we don't all work together as a team. I'm counting on you to lead us to Humphreys, Santos. We need your head to be on straight tonight. Already Bobby and Hal are distracted. And God knows what Stephanie's doing in there."

She's chewing a crater into her lip and worrying herself towards an ulcer, that's what she's doing. I felt terrible. I needed to say something, and I needed to do it now. I threw open our suite's door and looked Tank directly in the eye after taking a deep breath. Lester was staring at me incredulously, but I ignored him and plowed ahead.

"Tank, I want to apologize for what you saw a few minutes ago between Santos and I. I want you to know that we're the job tonight, and we won't let you or Ranger or any of the other guys down. We're **all** the job. I want to get this guy, and I'm one hundred percent positive that the rest of the guys do, too."

Lester and Tank were silent as they stared down at me. Finally, Tank shook his head in mock exasperation and smiled down at the toes of his boots. "Steph, you kill me." He looked me in the face and thumped his hand down on my shoulder. "I appreciate that, though. Thank you." Tank got on his two-way.

"Brown and Dominguez, do you copy?"

"Ten-four, our twenty is the downstairs lobby."

"We're headed your way."

"Copy that."

Tank turned back to Lester and I. "I'm not about to get in the middle of whatever it is you two are dealing with right now," he said. "But I trust that you'll let Ranger know if and when you define the status of your relationship. For now, I can offer you my silence on this matter, and most likely so can Brown and Dominguez. I'll talk to them."

"Thanks, man," Lester said, slapping his hand and doing the quick "guy" hug with Tank. "Sorry you had to find out this way."

Tank looked at me warily. "You sure you're up for this, Steph?"

I was more than ready. I wanted to distract the hell out of Humphreys, slap cuffs and shackles on his hairy wrists and ankles, and then watch him flop around like a fish out of water on Bobby's Taser line just for the hell of it. He deserved to have 50,000 volts delivered into his sorry, wife-beating ass.

"You bet your ass, Tank."

Tank turned to Lester and furrowed his brow. "You'd better not fuck this up somehow, Santos."

"Don't worry about this getting fucked up. That's not gonna happen," growled Lester. "I'll meet you downstairs. I want to talk to Steph."

Tank nodded once and turned to lumber down the hallway to the elevator. I reached up to my ear and switched off the wire so that whatever Les and I said to each other wouldn't be broadcasted to the guys. Once the doors swallowed Tank up and began carting him to the lobby, Lester turned to me and I grabbed him by his belt before drawing him up to my front. I slid my arms around his waist, underneath his tee shirt and tank top and below the Kevlar, feeling his warm, smooth skin glide along my own as my hands met and clasped together behind his back.

"You could have told Tank that you were suffering from a bout of horrible dry-mouth and that you needed me to give you a saliva transfusion," I told him, grinning.

Lester laughed out loud. "He'd be a fool to believe that load of crap. We're crazy as fuck, you know that, right?" he stated to me, giving me his sexy lopsided smile. Lester drew my face up to his and kissed me gently.

"I'm sorry," I whispered against his lips, quickly changing the mood to serious. "I hate coming between you and the guys."

"They'll get over it," Lester whispered back. His tongue snaked out and tasted my bottom lip, and I fisted a chunk of his tee shirt in my right hand. A huge part of me suddenly wanted to bag the Humphreys hunt and drag Santos back into our room to finish what we'd started before Bobby interrupted us.

Before Lester kissed me into a stupor, I wanted to clear up one little thing that had been nagging at me since we landed in L.A. Well, it wasn't really a little thing. I decided to go for it and plunge head-first. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, beautiful." Lester wrapped his huge arms around my shoulders and stared intently down into my eyes.

I drew in a haggled breath. "What's going on between us?" I said quietly.

Lester was silent for a full minute before sighing and dropping his arms from around my shoulders. He stepped back from me and took off his baseball cap, rubbing his hair before putting it back on again.

"Steph," he began.

My heart sank. His body language and sigh pretty much summed it all up. "Never mind, Lester. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand how important your career is to you, and your job with RangeMan. It's your life. It's who you are. I can't ask you to jeopardize all of that because of whatever it is that we're messing around with here." I reached out to put my hand on his forearm, but he shook me off.

"Messing around? Is that all you think we're doing?" Lester exclaimed.

"No! Lester, I didn't mean it that way. I – I just want you to know that you mean way more to me than that!"

Lester studied me for what seemed like forever. Finally, he moved towards me and backed me up against our suite door. He gently pressed his soft, full lips up against my mouth and locked his chocolate brown eyes on mine. "You know what, Steph? I'm willing to risk everything you'd just mentioned if it means that I'd be able to see your beautiful face and hear your voice talk to me every fucking day."

His words were music to my ears, but I wasn't about to let him see that just yet. "So why all the sighing and hair-rubbing then?" I cocked my head to the side and stared up at him, waiting for an explanation.

"To be honest with you, I've been dreading this conversation since that first night we had in my Escalade. In case you haven't realized it, you mean more to _me_ than any woman ever has. You've been my friend for the longest time. My co-worker, and my takedown partner. I thank my lucky stars every single day that you're in my life. And whatever it is that you want, I want it, too. Just say the magic word, Steph."

I pulled his head to mine and kissed him with every ounce of passion and fire that I felt with him. So many feelings were rushing through me. Trust. Caring. Friendship. A strong sexual attraction. And, deep down, emotions that went beyond what we were used to feeling for each other. When his tongue touched mine, I knew I was in for a hell of a ride with Lester Santos leading the way into the uncertain future. He pulled away breathlessly and leaned his forehead against mine. I took a deep breath before I told him the "magic" word.

"Okay," I whispered. I was ready. God help me, it was like the blind leading the blind, but I knew we had to at least see where it would go. For both our sakes.

Lester drew my bottom lip in between his teeth then, and soon our mouths were sliding together sensually as we fought for control of the kiss. Christ, I'd never get tired of kissing this man. He did it all too well. "We'll take it one day at a time," he mumbled against my lips. "No rush, no pressure. I'll take care of Ranger."

I grew serious again. "Les…Ranger is still very important to me. He's my friend and mentor. I care about him a lot, even if he doesn't feel the same way about me."

Lester studied me closely and held my face in both of his hands. "Steph, despite his actions I'm pretty sure he cares a lot about you, too. Maybe not in the same way that I do, but he definitely cares about your well-being. And I'm almost certain that you'll still have a friendship with him regardless of what happens. Trust me on that one. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

I racked my brain trying to remember a time when Lester had royally fucked up. "Well, there was that one time with the guy from Chestnut Park who had the Buzz Lightyear tattoo and the trick hip –

"Are you still on that?"

"Yes! He was completely innocent, and you had me and Lula storm his shithole apartment like we were in Desert Storm. And he was clearly pissed about Lula stun-gunning him in the ass cheek." I shivered at the memory. "Then there was that whole business with his trick hip…"

"Yeah, that was gruesome." It was Lester's turn to shudder. "Turned out he had some other…limbs…that were trick, too."

Christ. I remembered Lester paying dearly for that little stunt on the mats with Ranger and Tank.

I got back on the subject of Ranger, feeling a lot better about things as far as Lester was concerned. "Are you sure you can handle the Boss?"

Lester nodded and drew me closer to him. "Yeah. I'm sure. He's kicked my ass before. Nothing I can't overcome again."

"What if he ships you off to the Miami office? Or Bangladesh?"

"He might. But I'd rather have him hand me my ass instead being shipped away to South Asia. That way, if my eyes aren't too swollen shut, I can at least somewhat still see you when you visit me in traction up at St. Francis."

"Thank you," I said, laughing. "For offering to face your own demise for me."

He kissed me quickly before adjusting his vest and cargoes. "Switch your wire on. They're probably wondering if we ditched them to have sex all night." Lester grinned evilly at me and took the key card out my hands before replacing it in his wallet. I switched my wire receiver to 'on' and repositioned it.

"Let's get this asshole," I muttered.

* * *

The night was so dark that it made it nearly impossible for us to see clearly. It was still too early for the sun to start rising, so we had to settle for using two-pound Maglites and the Expedition's high beams to see into parking lots and dark driveways. Lester steered us into the parking lot of an EconoLodge near Boyle Heights, not far from East L.A. Not the greatest neighborhood to be hanging out in, according to the gang slogans tagged on virtually every vertical flat surface.

"Is this the place?" Lester asked the guys over the radio. Tank and Hal pulled up next to us and cut their headlights. Bobby was sitting in the backseat of the vehicle Lester and I were in, messing around on Les's laptop.

"According to the informant, yes. Humphreys also rented a white Nissan Murano SUV earlier in the afternoon from Avis at the airport. I'll circle the lot on all sides of the hotel and see if I can spot the car," Tank replied.

"Copy that." Lester leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. Tank crept slowly across the parking lot in his Expedition and I watched as he turned the corner towards the back of the motel.

"I've got flight information pulled up," Bobby spoke up from the backseat. "If Humphreys is planning to fly out sometime today, he's gonna have to do it on that noon flight to Mexico City. Of course, he could always decide to jump on the two thirty-seven flight to Monterrey."

"Why are we so sure he's going to Mexico?" I asked. "He could just as easily go to Canada."

"Humphreys has a history of dabbling in the nose-candy business," Bobby told me. "It seems most likely that he'd set up shop down there and try to disappear for awhile. Lay low, you know what I'm saying?"

I nodded. "I just hope he doesn't realize that we're after him."

"Beautiful, our main goal is to keep that from happening." Lester turned to me and smiled. He picked up my hand and pressed a hot kiss to my palm. Things began to waken up down south and I suddenly became very aware that Bobby was probably watching us. I turned around in my seat and met his dark brown eyes.

"Hey," he said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Y'all are crazy, you know that? But since I love both of you idiots so much, I'm keeping my mouth shut until you decide to tell Bossman."

"Thanks," I told Bobby. "We're not sure how he'll react, so we figured it would be best that only the three of you are aware of this for right now."

"Sure," Bobby said. "But try to keep the PDAs to a minimum, with all the smoochy-tonguey stuff. I have a very sensitive gag reflex."

Lester snorted. "It's a good thing you're a guy, then. Because I'd feel very sorry for your husband if you were a woman."

"Fuck you, Santos."

Tank rounded the corner in the Expedition. "No luck," he said over the wire. "Let's check out some other area motels and see if we strike gold."

We visited a Motel Six, a Super Eight, and a Holiday Inn Express, all with negative results. Tank suggested we check out the Embassy Suites in Glendale, but Hal pointed out that it was probably too pricey for someone of Humphrey's caliber. My feet were aching in the four-inch FMPs and the dry heat of summer in California was getting to me. My ass had a cramp in it from sitting, my ear was ringing due to the constant conversation flowing into it, and I had a serious thong-wedgie.

When Hal suggested we stake out some local bars around East L.A. and the airport, I did a slow burn in the passenger's seat of the Expedition. Swell. I somehow couldn't work up the enthusiasm to chit-chat with any nutcases leaving bars, drunk as skunks, at the crack of dawn.

Lester must have sensed my disapproval of the matter, because he turned to face me when we'd stopped at a traffic light on our way to the first bar. "It won't be that bad, Steph," he said. "We'll scan the lots first, see if the Murano's there. If we get a match, go in and do your thing. We've got your back."

"You know what? I hope our next nutcase is gay, because I'm sending YOU in to do the distraction." I glared at Lester.

He chuckled good-naturedly and leaned over to brush his lips against my cheek. "What makes you so sure I'll be able to distract him?"

"Are you fishing for compliments?"

"It's six o'clock in the damn morning here, Steph. My ego needs a little boost." Lester swung the SUV into the parking lot of a little place called Nicola's, off of South Gerhart Avenue in East L.A. My stomach flip-flopped when I spotted a small white SUV parked in the far right corner of the lot, flanked on either side by two compact cars. I grabbed Lester's forearm and pointed straight ahead of me. Lester backed smoothly into a parking space opposite the white SUV and cut the headlights. Tank pulled up next to us and did the same.

"I'll get out and check the make and model of that white SUV," Bobby volunteered. He slipped out of the Expedition and Lester and I watched as he stealthily maneuvered himself between the parked cars and made his way over to the white SUV.

"Is it a Murano?" Lester asked over the two-way.

"Ten-four," Bobby replied from across the lot. "Nissan Murano."

"I'm sending Steph in," Lester informed the guys. Bobby had slipped back into the Expedition and shut himself inside the backseat. Sighing, I fluffed my hair and applied fresh lipstick. Stephanie Plum, Bar Slut.

"Show me the guy's picture again," I said, and Bobby turned the laptop to face me. Humphreys was a 230-pound, six-foot-three white male, appearing to be in his thirties, with fiery red hair and a fiery red beard and mustache. He looked like he'd be the type of guy to smash up his wife and then skip town. He looked like the type of guy that would take advantage of a woman and then make her wish she was dead afterwards. He also looked like the type of guy who was no-nonsense and could smell a fib a mile away. I drew in a ragged breath and prayed he'd play along long enough for the guys waiting outside to be able to get to him.

"Listen carefully to the wire," Lester instructed me. "We'll be able to hear your conversation with him and we may need to inform you on what to say, so don't make it look obvious that you're listening to us through your earpiece. And don't be nervous." He kissed me quickly before adjusting the air vents to blow directly on his face. Bobby got out of the backseat and met me outside next to the passenger's side door.

"You'll be fine," he said to me. He kissed me on the cheek and turned to give the 'okay' sign to Hal and Tank in the parking spot next to us. I hurried up to the front door of Nicola's and heaved it open.

I was met with the overpowering smell of cigarette smoke and booze and day-old grease from the back kitchen fryer. A classic rock song was blaring out of the speaker system and the bar was still lined with tortured, drunken souls who hadn't yet drained the dive's alcohol supply. I immediately picked out who I assumed to be Humphreys, who was taking up space near the far end of the bar next to the back door. Fuck! The guys were situated outside the front door and the side door, not the back door. Should trouble arise, and I was kidnapped out through the back door, the guys may not be able to get to me in time.

I bellied up to the bar stool next to Humphreys and caught the attention of the bartender. "What can I get you?" he asked me.

"Actually, I may have forgotten my purse when I left here earlier. It's a red shoulder bag with a large gold buckle. Have you seen it?" Damn, I was a good liar.

The bartender shook his head. "No one's turned anything in," he told me.

"Rats." I shook my head and turned to face Humphreys, who was watching me intently. "Good thing it just contained my makeup and a couple dollar bills, huh?" I said, smiling at Humphreys. He took his time smiling back and when he finally did, it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'll say," he replied. I sat down on the seat next to Humphreys and motioned for the bartender to fix me a water on the rocks. "If you don't mind me asking, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a dive like this? Shouldn't you be hanging out near Beverly Hills or something? This isn't the best of areas." Humphreys took a swig of his Miller Lite and swished it around in his rancid mouth. His breath could have peeled the paint off a barn. I still had to be sure that he was the guy we were after, so I plowed on with the conversation.

"Yeah, but I'm staying with a friend while I'm visiting. I'm here from Lansing, Michigan." I took a sip of the water the bartender had set out for me.

"I would have pegged you as a Jersey girl," Humphreys said with a smirk. I faltered slightly when I heard Lester hiss "Shit!" into my ear, but quickly recovered when he said for me to just go with it.

"So what's your name?" I asked him.

"Jacky Humphreys." Bingo. "And you are?"

"Lisa. Lisa Valerie."

"And where are you headed after this, Lisa Valerie?" Jacky asked, smiling a near-toothless smile at me. "Since you don't have your makeup purse." I fought off an involuntary shiver and gave him a phony smile.

"I was going to head back to my friend's house and try to get some rest," I informed him.

"Funny. I was just about to head out myself," Jacky chuckled. He tossed a few bills onto the bar and got up from his barstool. "Can I walk you to your car, Lisa Valerie?"

The whole "using my first and last name" thing was extremely creepy, but I let that slide since he was such a huge freak and probably had fewer brain cells than a dried-out pothead. "Sure," I said. "I'm parked out front."

"Let's go out this way," Jacky suggested, leading me by the elbow to the back door. _Yikes!_ I knew that the guys weren't keeping watch on that door and panic began to quickly set in. Before I knew what was happening, Jacky Humphreys was pushing me out the back door and we burst out into the hot curtain of dry California heat and smog. He had me yanked close to his dirty, disgusting lumberjack-sized body and I struggled to loosen his grip on my wrists, but he was holding tight.

"Let me go!" I screamed, knowing the guys would hear me and come running. Jacky and I were nearing his white Murano and in the blink of an eye, the two black Expeditions rounded the corner, tires squealing. They screeched to a stop and Tank, Hal, Bobby, and Lester all jumped out with their guns drawn. Everyone began yelling at once.

"Let her go, Humphreys! It's over!" Tank hollered, his Glock trained on Jacky. Humphreys's eyes went wide as he released my wrists and jumped into his white SUV before flooring it. Lester and Hal shot at him, and bullets pinged off the rear fenders and one shattered the back window completely, but Humphreys had still managed to flee the scene. Several bar patrons were now congregated at the back door and were watching the whole scene in a drunken stupor.

"Go back inside, show's over," Hal informed everybody. Lester jammed his Glock into the back waistband of his cargoes and dashed over to me.

"Steph," he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around me. "Are you okay?"

I was shaking like a leaf and my stupid mascara was running down my cheeks in thick black tear drops. "No," I said in a wobbly voice. Lester kissed my forehead and hugged me to his chest.

"You're safe now," he told me. "I've got you."

Tank jogged over to where we were standing. "That _motherfucker_," he spat out. "Take Steph back to the hotel and get her cleaned up. The rest of us will see if we can catch up with him. He either went to the airport or went back to his motel, so at least we have a line on where he might be holed up. Keep your cell on, Santos. I'll call you if we have him so you and Bomber can meet up with us."

"Ten-four," Les told him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me over to his Expedition. Tank, Bobby, and Hal jumped into Tank's SUV and rocketed out of the bar parking lot in the direction that Humphreys had gone.

"I hate this shit," I growled as soon as we were buckled into the Expedition. Lester fired up the engine and punched our hotel's address into the GPS.

"I know you do," he sighed. "Distractions usually go as planned. This guy is just a sick motherfucker, that's all." Lester steered us out of Nicola's parking lot and in the direction of our hotel.

I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue to get the majority of the mascara streaks taken care of. I pulled out my wireless mic and switched it off before tossing it into one of the cup holders. "Damn skippy."

The ride back to the hotel was a quiet one. Lester had my fingers securely laced with his on the center console. I had stopped crying and was now feeling somewhat exhausted from my earlier adrenaline overdrive. We pulled up to the hotel and Lester docked the Expedition near the main entrance.

"You hungry?" he asked, turning towards me and studying my face intently.

I shook my head. "Not really. But we'll hit Mickey D's if you are," I told him. "I might be able to choke down an Egg McMuffin."

Lester smiled at me. "That's what I'm talkin' about." He pulled my face to his and swept his tongue across my bottom lip, silently asking for access. When I granted it to him, the kiss became heated as our mouths moved together, erotic and intimate. Lester's stomach growled and he pulled away. "Food first."

* * *

The sun was rising just as we crossed the parking lot together and headed into our hotel through the automatic double doors. We were each stuffed with McMuffins and hashbrowns, and both Lester and I were in desperate need of a shower and a bed.

We rode the elevator to our room and slammed ourselves inside. Lester took off his two-way and began unstrapping his weapons and Kevlar vest.

"I'll take a shower after you," he told me. "I'm putting a call in to Bobby while you're in there." Lester kissed me quickly before flopping down onto the bed and starting to unlace his boots. I got the shower going, nice and steamy. I shampooed, conditioned, lathered, and shaved my way to perfection. Well, not perfection. But at least I was clean and hair-free, people. That's important to a woman.

I was wrapping a fluffy hotel bath towel around myself when Lester approached the open bathroom doorway and took me in his arms. "Bobby and Tank and Hal are all staked out at the EconoLodge in East L.A.," he informed me. "The white Murano still hasn't shown up there yet, even though Tank went in and verified that Humphreys was definitely checked in."

I lifted Lester's tee shirt and tank top up and ran my hands slowly around his waist and up his warm, bare back. His skin was as smooth as satin and radiated heat. "Hurry up and take a shower," I said. "I'm still hungry."

"For what? We just bought out half of McDonalds," Lester asked me, confused.

I threw him a saucy grin. "I didn't say I wanted _food._"

"Christ," Lester gritted out. "Hold that thought." With that, he ran into the bathroom, stripping along the way. I chuckled when I heard the shower start and his outraged howl when I assumed he stepped under the freezing spray without waiting for the water to warm up.

I was lounging around on the king-sized bed, waiting for him, when I heard the bathroom door open. And before me stood Lester Santos, in all his amazing, naked glory. He wordlessly crawled into bed with me and settled himself between my legs before gently taking my tongue into his mouth.

"You are so beautiful, Stephanie," he mumbled against my neck. "All I think about is being with you, exactly like this." Lester trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses from my earlobe down to my jaw and I could feel the wetness gathering at the juncture of my thighs.

"Tell me what you want to do to me," I breathed. Lester groaned at that.

"Everything," he choked out. "I want to do _every-fucking-thing_ to you."

I let out a frustrated howl and pressed my hips up against his to feel his hard length. It was pulsating against my stomach and twitching out of control. "Then tell me exactly what you want."

Lester gently flipped me onto my stomach and when I felt his hot tongue drag down my spine towards my rear end, I thought I'd shatter into a million pieces of sheer delight. He lifted my hips so that my butt was in the air and my thighs were slightly spread apart. He bent over me from behind and I could feel his enormous girth pushing against my cheek.

"I want to make you come with my mouth," he rasped into my ear. My knees gave out and I collapsed back onto the bed in a puddle of mush. I could feel my inner walls quivering, and I was hovering on the edge of a huge release. Lester lifted my hips again and moved further down the bed so that his face was tucked between my thighs. As soon as his lips closed over me, my back arched and I cried out, hearing the noise echo off of the headboard and into my ears. It sounded erotic and I loved it. He flattened his talented tongue against my clit and the sensation was enough to bring me to orgasm due to the night's increasing sexual tension. Lester drank from me and brought me down slowly, before flipping me back over and pushing his tongue between my lips so that I could taste myself on him.

"What do you want to do to me now?" I grumbled against his lips.

"This." Lester hooked one of my legs around his upper arm and slowly pushed into me, sliding in to the hilt. God, he felt so good. And he felt even better when he began dragging himself in and out of my body, stoking a low fire. He moved within me and I clung to him, learning the moves he made up as we went along dancing the most intimate of all dances. Something inside us both snapped simultaneously and soon I was urging him on as he pounded into me.

We exploded together, into a whirlwind of intense sensations coupled with heat and passion. Lester kissed me deeply as he came, swallowing my cries and heightening the incredible sensations coursing through my hot, heavy body.

"Dios _mio_," Lester ground out. He collapsed on top of me in a bulk of sweaty muscle and buried his face in my neck to regain control of his breathing.

We lay curled up together for several minutes until nature called Lester into the bathroom. "Don't move a muscle."

I smiled at him, completely satisfied and totally relaxed. "Actually, I think I'm going to head down the hall to the vending area for a Coke," I informed him. "Want anything?"

Lester kissed me before heading into the bathroom. "Sprite is good, beautiful. Thanks." He disappeared into the bathroom and I tossed on a fluffy robe I'd found hanging on a hook behind the bathroom door, with _Renaissance Marriott_ stitched onto the breast pocket. I yanked on a pair of clean panties and snagged the room key, along with a few dollar bills for the sodas.

I was on my way back to our room with the sodas when I sensed the presence of someone behind me. Suddenly, something was jammed into the back of my legs, causing me to fall backwards down into a sitting position. I realized it was a moving wheelchair that I was now seated in and tendrils of panic curled in my stomach. The soda bottles had gone flying before smacking against the hall wall and exploding on impact. A familiar sizzle in my brain told me that I was being stun-gunned, and before I could see who my attacker was, my world was plunged into total darkness.

**TBC…I'd love to hear from you all about what you think of the story so far!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, loveys...I know that you're all dying to find out who has Steph, and I've finally rewarded your patience with the answer to that very question! And as always, thank you for your continued encouragement! --Jill**

**Warning: Huge caution for language and firearm violence. **

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Lester's POV

I threw on a clean pair of basketball shorts after I finished up in the bathroom and sagged back out to the room to wait for Steph. The king-sized bed looked extremely inviting. I was so fucking _tired. _The covers had been kicked off and were lying on the floor in a heap, so I arranged them back on the bed and buried my face in one of the pillows, inhaling Stephanie's scent and missing the feel of her warm, soft body pressed up against mine.

I must have dozed off because when I woke up the sun was shining brightly through the cracks in the window curtains and Stephanie wasn't in bed with me.

"Steph?" I called, thinking she might be in the bathroom. No answer. Fuck. I looked around the room to see if she'd brought the sodas back, but I saw none. Her suitcase sat untouched in the corner of the room. Her cell lay on the nightstand, the green diode blinking intermittently. The keys to my Expedition were resting on the nightstand next to her phone. Flames of fear licked up my esophagus and caught in my throat. Something was wrong.

The hotel lobby was full of people when I catapulted myself out of the elevator, ignoring the stares of at least a dozen women who appeared to be removing my basketball shorts with their eyes. I dashed up to the continental breakfast buffet in hopes that Steph might have gotten hungry again, but there was no sign of her in line for the do-it-yourself waffle maker or at the tables.

I took the stairs back up to the fourth floor and tore down the hall back to our room, hoping with all my heart that Steph was back in there. I skidded to a stop when I saw that a housekeeping cart was blocking the doorway to the room. The older dark-skinned woman who was pushing it gave me a disapproving once-over and shook her head. I really had to start remembering to fully dress myself before leaving places. The woman's milky brown eyes gazed knowingly into my own as I stared at her.

"He took her," she informed me in Spanish, calmly removing a set of towels to take into the room next to mine and Steph's. "Un hombre Chicano, muy grande." A big Mexican guy. Not Humphreys. "I saw the whole thing." She placed a clean set of sheets on top of the pile of towels.

My heart leapt into my throat and it felt as though all of the air in the hallway was replaced with thick, hot smoke. I ran my hands through my hair and growled in terror and frustration.

"Why the fuck didn't you DO something?" I demanded to her in Spanish, when I'd managed to get my vocal cords working again. I didn't wait for her to fucking answer me, because I knew that whatever reason she'd give me would be complete and total bullshit that really didn't matter. I squeezed around her housekeeping cart and swiped the room key card in the door handle slot before throwing myself inside. I dialed Tank on my cell with shaking fingers.

"We got Humphreys," he yelled into the receiver as soon as he picked up. "Bagged him as he was sneaking into his fucking hotel room. He's on ice with us. He confessed to everything. We're on our way to LAPD headquarters."

"Tank, you've gotta fucking listen to me, man," I hollered at him. "Steph's gone. She didn't come back to our room when she went to go get soda at the vending machines down the hall. I've searched the entire hotel for her and I can't find her."

Tank was silent on the other end of the line and I could practically feel his terror radiating across the airwaves. "Well, Humphreys didn't have her."

"No shit," I exclaimed, my voice cracking from fear. "Get this. The fucking housekeeper said she saw everything! She said a big Mexican guy took Steph in the hallway and disappeared somewhere. And she didn't tell me anything more than that."

Tank blew out a huge sigh. "Okay. I have no choice but to get Ranger out here ASAP with a few of the other men. Stand by. Don't leave the hotel in case Steph is returned, and whatever you do, don't try to take matters into your own fucking hands, Santos." The line went dead. Fuck. I ran into the bathroom and threw up. My cell rang as soon as I was done dry heaving. I quickly rinsed out my mouth and ran to answer it.

"Santos," Ranger gritted out. "Tell me everything you know about what happened to Stephanie."

I took a shaky deep breath. "She went down the hall to get some sodas for us," I began. "I was lounging around, waiting for her to come back, and I fucking fell asleep. When I woke up, she still hadn't returned from the vending machines. I was asleep for almost two hours."

"What was she wearing at the time of her disappearance?" Ranger demanded. "Her distraction outfit?"

"No," I told him. "She'd already showered. She left the room in a Renaissance Marriott bathrobe. She had her pajamas on underneath it." Okay, so I lied to Ranger. I was certain Stephanie didn't have anything on under that bathrobe, maybe with the possible exception of a pair of panties.

"Aiight," Ranger said quietly. "I'll think about believing you on that one, Santos. Tell me what the housekeeper said to you."

I ignored that last little comment of his and plowed ahead. "She told me that Steph had been taken by a big Hispanic guy and that she saw the whole thing go down. She didn't offer any more information than that. I asked her why she didn't do something to help Steph, but I didn't care to stick around to hear her bullshit answer. I figured that her response really wouldn't have mattered at that point."

"Any idea about who could have her?"

"Not a damn clue." I hung up on Ranger and paced the length of the hotel room. My stomach was quivering and my heart was pounding so hard I felt like my chest would implode. Stephanie was gone. She'd been taken from me. And I wasn't sure if I'd ever get her back. We'd had incredible, mind-blowing sex, she'd gotten thirsty afterwards, and thinking about the rest made the bile rise up in my throat. My cell rang again.

"We're not involving the police in this just yet," Bobby informed me. "Ranger, Cal, and Manny are boarding a private jet bound for Van Nuys Executive and should be here by late afternoon. We just got to LAPD headquarters with Humphreys. The extradition paperwork won't take very long. After this we're gonna head over in your direction."

"Whatever, man. Just fucking find her." I hung up on Bobby and flopped facedown onto the bed before burying my face in the pillow that smelled like Stephanie. It was all I could do to keep from breaking down completely, but I knew I had to stay strong for Steph. I had to find her. Fuck Tank for making me stay behind. Why, so that I could worry myself into a fucking state over her? I didn't care what anyone told me to do. I knew she wasn't going to come back to the hotel. How could I lose Stephanie? She'd already situated herself into my fucking heart and soul.

I put on a pair of baggy blue jeans and laced up my Shoxx. I stretched a black tank top over my chest and threw on a black RangeMan tee shirt. I jammed my Glock into my waistband, grabbed my wallet, shades, and the keys to the truck, stuck my White Sox hat on backwards, and stalked out of the hotel room. Lester Santos, undercover vigilante. I went downstairs to the lot and took off in the Expedition.

* * *

Nicola's Bar was closed in the middle of the morning, but there were a few cars out front so I decided to stop in and see if I could get any information on the big Hispanic guy. He might have seen Steph enter the bar early this morning and, since she's such a psycho-magnet, decided that he wanted himself a taste of Plum juiciness.

I tried the handle on the front door of the bar and was thrilled to find it unlocked. I stepped into a haze of stale cigarette smoke and festering urine and took off my shades.

"Can I help you?" a guy behind the bar asked me. He had been drying pub glasses with a small towel and stopped what he was doing to peer at me curiously.

"I hope so," I told him. "Was there a large Hispanic guy here early this morning, like around six-ish? Mexican, maybe? Possibly sitting towards the far end of the bar near the back door?"

The dark-skinned bartender grew thoughtful and knit his bushy black eyebrows together. "Kinky Tesuque is Native American," he said slowly. "And Rich Tiger is, too. Oh, wait. Might have been Leon Garza. He's Mexican. Big time. Comes in sometimes to unwind after a night of carjacking and stealing hydraulics from the tricked-out carruchas. He was here this morning when the incident happened. There was a little soiree involving a woman and one of the bar patrons with some bounty hunters outside. Early, before sunrise."

I nodded. "You know where I can find Garza?" I asked. The name Leon Garza sounded vaguely familiar, but I brushed it off.

"He might be down in East Compton this time of day, peddling his stolen car parts out of Gussy Limón's chop shop. Corner of Long Beach Boulevard and Rosecrans Avenue."

"Thanks, man." I tapped the bar with my knuckles and headed out to my SUV. I figured that Steph had somehow caught Garza's attention this morning at the bar while she was supposed to be picking up Humphreys and Garza had decided to follow us back to the hotel before making his move. And here I was, worried all this fucking time about Humphreys. And what happens? Someone _else_ tries to hurt her. The more I actually thought about it, the more certain I became that it was Leon Garza who had Stephanie. The reason why was still completely unclear.

My cell rang. I looked at the readout and saw it was Tank. _Fuck_ me.

"What?" I barked.

"Please tell me that your feet are glued to the carpet in your hotel room," Tank gritted out.

"What? I can't hear you. Bad reception." I made staticky noises in the back of my throat and disconnected. The phone rang again, but I let it go to voicemail. I punched the cross streets that the bartender from Nicola's had given me into the GPS and hung a U-turn at Whittier Boulevard.

The GPS wove me all around the streets of Los Angeles and finally dumped me off directly in front of Gussy Limón's dilapidated chop shop. Several cars were parked out front and they ALL looked like they'd seen better days. I swung the Expedition into a makeshift parking space across the street from the chop shop and locked up behind me.

Cool air rushed into my face as soon as I stepped inside and the sound of some sort of saw or drill filtered in from the attached auto bay. A thin guy in a mechanic's jumpsuit sauntered in from the bay, wiping his dirty hands on a grease rag.

"You looking for some parts for that Expedition?" he asked in a thick Latino accent, nodding towards my rental car. His head was shaved and his facial hair was so immaculately groomed that I wondered if whoever had done it would consider making cross-country house calls to Trenton.

"Actually, no," I replied. "I'm looking for somebody."

"That'll cost you, ése." He eyed the tattoos that extended a few inches beyond the sleeves of my tee shirt.

My jaw hit the floor. "Cuánto?"

"Depends. Who you looking for?"

"Garza."

The cholo laughed mirthlessly and let his head roll back on his neck. "I can't give you a price on him, mi'ijo." He turned his attention back to his grease rag and began talking to no one in particular. "Mira ésto, un Puertorriqueño aquí. No vales náda."

I approached him and caught him off guard when I gripped him by the front of his well-worn Dickies jumpsuit and raised him three inches off the ground. I jammed the barrel of my Glock into the gang slogans inked on his neck and spoke low and rough in his ear.

"Tell you what," I began. "You're the one who'll be worthless when they lower you into the ground, cabrón." I shook him for good measure and sweat beads dropped from his temple and splashed onto my gun.

He took a deep breath and gritted out his response to that. "You might find him at the apartment complex on West Sunset and Glendale Avenue. In Echo Park. River's Edge Community Houses. Third floor. Es el apartamento de su novia." His girlfriend's apartment. Hunh. He reached a trembling hand into the breast pocket of his mechanic's jumpsuit and pulled out a small Post-It note with a phone number on it. "Aquí es el número de teléfono." How convenient.

I'd let the guy sweat enough. I was going to have to take a Clorox wipe to my gun after this whole mess was over. I threw him against the counter and stalked out of the chop shop, stuffing my gun back into my waistband as I made tracks to my Expedition. I was going on a wild goose chase all over Los Angeles looking for this Garza guy. I didn't give two flying fucks. I needed to find Stephanie. My life depended on it. I punched the Echo Park cross streets into the GPS and roared away from Limón's.

I stopped at a red light and dialed the phone number that the sweaty guy had given me. It rang about sixty times before someone finally picked up. There was a lot of shouting in the background and I heard someone talk at last.

"Dígame," a sleepy, quiet voice said. Didn't sound happy to be on the phone.

"Let me talk to Garza," I demanded. Silence.

"¿Quién es?" the man said after awhile.

"Lester Santos."

"Santos, Santos…is he expecting your call?"

"Tell him that if he doesn't get on this phone NOW, there's gonna be a hole where his fucking face used to be." I was so angry I was shaking. Tapping, swishy sounds were followed by strained muffling, and who I assumed to be Leon Garza came on the line.

"Santos," Garza greeted me. "I was hoping you'd call."

"How the fuck do you know who I am?" I demanded through clenched teeth.

Garza laughed and it sounded sick and twisted over the airwaves. "It's a small world, ése. You looking for your lady?"

"Tell me that she's safe and alive."

"She's safe and alive," agreed Garza. "Not for long, though. Unless you come through for me."

"How the fuck am I gonna do that?" I demanded. I'd parked the Expedition in the lot of a CVS near Echo Park because talking to Garza about Stephanie had me nearing hysteria.

"I need you to bring somebody to me. Of value."

"Who?"

"Manoso. I want Carlos fucking Manoso."

"What do you want with him?" I asked darkly.

"Just get me Manoso. It's as simple as that, chingádo. When you have him, bring him to me and I'll make a trade with you. Manoso for your girl. Entiéndes?"

I was silent because my heart was busy bursting to pieces inside my rib cage. "Where and when?" I finally gritted out.

"2113 Shenadoah Avenue in Ladera Heights. Nine tonight. No cops. And Santos. Don't do nothing stupid or your woman will have to answer to me. Try not to fuck this up." The line went dead. _Fuck. _He had Stephanie. At least she was safe and alive, according to Garza. But who knew for sure? I needed Tank and the guys. I punched the address for the hotel into the GPS and tore off down West Sunset Blvd.

* * *

"Okay, so what do we know?" Bobby demanded. He was rummaging around in a duffel bag for the extra clip to his Glock.

"He obviously knew who Stephanie was when he saw her in the bar," Hal pointed out. "And he knows who you are, Santos." I stared at Hal from my cocoon of bed covers and pillows. Every so often the sickening waves of nausea would get so bad that I'd dry heave in the bathroom for ten minutes and nothing would come up.

"But what the fuck does he want with Ranger?" Tank wondered aloud.

"Who knows," I muttered. "Ranger's made a lot of enemies over the years, bro." It would be torture waiting until nine o'clock. It was only three. Ranger's private plane was due into the Van Nuys Executive Airport at five sharp. That gave us four hours to get suited up and situated in Ladera Heights.

Bobby jammed a clip of cop-killers into his pistol and chambered a round. "I can't _wait _to empty this clip into Garza's ass."

"That name sounds familiar," Tank spoke up. "Garza. I'm next to positive Ranger will know who he is."

"I hope so, since he's the one Garza seems to be after," Bobby said.

"Gentlemen," I said weakly from my cocoon. "Do we even have a plan of attack for this evening?"

"We shouldn't plan anything until Ranger lands," Hal said. "And Santos. You shouldn't let Bossman see you like that. Get it together, man."

I still had two hours to mope and worry myself into a fit before Ranger arrived in L.A., but I wasn't about to express that to Hal. I threw the covers off myself and sat up a little in bed. I had the Stephanie pillow cradled against my chest and every so often I'd breathe in its scent, and my stomach would go into a free-fall thinking about what she must be witnessing or enduring while under Garza's scrutinous, psycho-fuck supervision.

"Good work today, Santos," Tank told me. He clapped me on the shoulder and sat down next to me on the edge of the bed. "I'm glad you disobeyed my direct order to stay here at the hotel. We wouldn't have located Steph."

"Yeah," I grumbled. "I'm glad I didn't listen to you either, Tank."

At five thirty, there was a booming knock at the suite door. Tank unlocked the door before opening it and Ranger, Cal, and Manny stepped inside with their luggage.

"The cab just dropped us off. I got your message," Ranger told Tank. "Leon Garza wants to trade Stephanie for me tonight at nine in Ladera Heights. No police and no trouble. Can't get much more fucked up than that." Ranger tossed his duffel bag onto the floor and joined Bobby and I at the table.

"Any idea who this guy is?" Bobby countered.

Ranger nodded, resigned. "I killed his brother three years ago during a drug bust-gone bad." Fuck. That's how Garza knew me then. And that's why his name sounded familiar to us all. Tank and I had been with Ranger on that drug bust.

"Here in California?" Manny asked.

"No, actually. In Brooklyn." Ranger glanced around the suite. "Which one of you is staying in here?"

"I am," I spoke up. "And so is Stephanie."

"How come only one of the beds is unmade then?" Fuck Ranger for calling me out like that.

I thought fast, holding Ranger's stare the whole time. "Housekeeping was in here this morning," I told him. "She made both beds, but I messed that one up earlier." I gestured towards the bed I'd been laying in during my moping. It was also the bed Steph and I had christened that morning. I hoped to God that her lime green thong wasn't sticking out from between the sheets, on display for Ranger to get a gander at and figure out what the fuck we'd been up to.

Ranger nodded once and gave me one last level glare before focusing his attention on some paperwork that Tank had set in front of him. Well, shit. I didn't give a shit whether he believed me or not at that point.

Bobby cleared his throat and looked at Ranger. "At least Humphreys is behind bars."

"I know. Good work, gentlemen." Ranger looked over the papers in front of him and signed two of them before handing them back to Tank, who placed them in a folder labeled _Humphreys, Jacky_. "Has anyone actually spoken to Stephanie since she's been holed up with Garza?"

"I didn't actually get to speak with her directly but Garza informed me that she was safe and alive. I think it's you that he really wants, anyway. But he's using her to get to you, since she was a convenient hostage," I told Ranger.

"Makes sense," he agreed. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "We need to set up a plan. Santos, since you've been communicating with Garza, I'll have you lead this operation. The rest of you can run backup for Santos and I'll go in there as the trade. Some serious negotiations will have to be made when we get in there, though. Both Stephanie and I need to somehow be kept alive."

"We can't go in there and just start shooting," Manny pointed out.

"Yeah, no shit," Cal spoke up. "Do you think Garza'll want money, too?"

Ranger shook his head. "No. A bullet through my head is what he wants." Underneath all that calm, I knew Ranger was fucking terrified for Stephanie's life and his own. We all were, especially myself. To know that both your boss and your girlfriend may end up in serious danger in the very near future wasn't a comforting thought. I now understood why Joe Morelli used to drink Maalox by the gallon.

"Ain't this some shit," Bobby barked out. "Steph goes into a random bar to distract our high-bond skip, and ends up catching the attention of one of Ranger's back-in-the-day enemies who recognized her from God knows where."

"Shitty coincidence," said Hal. "Garza must have figured that this would probably be his one and only chance to get even with Ranger for what he did to his brother in Brooklyn three years ago. Garza had to have followed Santos and Steph back to the hotel from the bar and kept an eye on their room from somewhere on this floor."

"We could at least try to offer Garza some cash," Manny spoke up.

"We could. But I don't think that'll work," replied Ranger. "This is a case of pure revenge." And Stephanie was caught right in the ugly middle of it.

* * *

At eight o'clock on the dot, Hal, Bobby, Tank, Manny, Cal, and I stood around in Tank and Bobby's hotel room, decked out in full RangeMan black from head to toe and armed to the fucking teeth. We were all in Kevlar and had a minimum of three weapons each strapped to various parts of our bodies. Ranger was in RangeMan black sans weapons, since he was to be swapped for Stephanie and arming him wasn't an option. I knew for a fact, however, that he had a gun _somewhere_ on him, but I wasn't about to ask him to spread his legs so that I could do a pat-down. At eight-ten, my cell rang.

"Do you have Manoso?" Garza quizzed me, in a sing-song voice. It sounded like he'd been drinking. Must have gotten my cell number from his caller ID when I'd given him a jingle earlier.

"I have him," I informed Garza.

"Órale, that was _quick_."

"He was already on his way here. Let me talk to Stephanie," I demanded.

"I can't do that, Santos," Garza said, slurring his words. "She's busy." I heard a small yelp followed by a woman's blood-curdling scream. My heart leapt into my throat and I felt my knees go weak. Bobby rushed to my side to hold me up. When the clanging in my head subsided, I responded to Garza.

"Don't you harm a single hair on her fucking head," I managed to grit out. Garza laughed maniacally and the line went dead. _Fuck. _The phone began to slide out of my hands but Bobby caught it just in time before it thunked onto the carpet.

"Get yourself together, man," he hissed into my ear. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you. I really can't. But one little fuck-up and we could lose Steph and possibly Ranger, too. Can you relax for me?"

I nodded to Bobby and stood myself up. I needed to have my head on straight in order to keep from screwing this whole operation up. Ranger, once again, had put most of the pressure on me to get the job done. If he kept that up, I wouldn't live to see thirty-one. Since I was the pathetic SOB who was going to do most of the negotiating with Garza, it was necessary for me to wear Steph's wireless mic so that the guys doing backup could hear what was said between us. I switched it on and positioned it while the rest of the guys, excluding Ranger, wired up and started the mic checks.

The plan was to show our force in numbers but not appear so threateningly brutal that there would be a shoot-out as soon as we pulled up to 2113 Shenandoah Avenue. I would be the first in, Ranger second right behind me, and the rest of the guys would be scattered throughout should a problem arise from a different part of the house.

"Let's roll," I gruffed out. "I want Ranger, Tank, and Bobby with me. The rest of you follow in the second truck. I want everybody to say a silent prayer to _La Virgen _that we all make it out of this fuck-shit alive." I crossed myself and quickly kissed mi abuela's gold crucifix that was draped around my neck. The guys all muttered out their testosterone-loaded prayers and we banged our way out of the suite and down the hall.

Christ. I felt my knees go weak again and Bobby rushed up behind me to hold me upright. "Keep it together, man," he grunted. We continued down the hall and loaded ourselves into the elevator. The ride to the lobby was deafeningly silent. Each and every one of us were worried sick about Steph. Hal's jaw kept twitching. Tank's nostrils were flaring intermittently. Ranger looked like he'd just taken an air boat ride through hell. And I felt like I'd collapse from a heart attack any second.

When we made it to the Expeditions, we split up and I got behind the wheel of mine. Ranger rode shotgun.

"Punch in the address, Bossman. 2113 Shenandoah Avenue in Ladera Heights." Ranger leaned across the center console and began typing in what I'd told him. It was a dark day indeed when Ricardo Carlos Manoso took orders from me without batting a fucking eye. I turned the engine over and waited while Hal started up the truck next to us. We rolled out of the lot at eight twenty-nine. We had exactly thirty minutes to get to Ladera Heights.

The drive to Shenandoah Avenue took less than fifteen minutes. There was a small kiddie park down the block from 2113, so Hal and I pulled into the lot and cut our headlights so we could rendezvous before muscling our way into the house where Leon Garza was keeping Stephanie as his prisoner. My hands shook as I pulled the keys from the ignition. My cell rang again.

"No police, right, Santos?" Garza cackled. "I see you all down the street there, at that park. You're a little early. We said nine o'clock."

This guy was getting on my last fucking nerve. "We're not from this area," I growled out. "We weren't sure how long it would take to get here."

"Well, now that you're aquí you might as well come in through the side door and join us for some fun. Bring Manoso." The line went dead. I motioned for Hal to follow behind me and we crept back down the street towards 2113 Shenandoah. We parked next to the house and the seven of us trooped across the yard like we were invading Poland. It felt like my throat was clogged and I wanted to barge in there and blow a hole through Garza's head to get to Stephanie. But I couldn't. Doing that would most likely get us all killed.

I gestured for Tank and the rest of the guys to position themselves around various parts of the house's exterior and I followed the front path down to the side door. There were no lights shining through the windows, but several low-riders were parked in various spots of the huge wraparound driveway. Great. The most horrific of all thoughts were coursing through my brain but I kept my cool as Ranger and I let ourselves in through the open side door. I was smart enough to realize that it wouldn't just be Garza we'd have to deal with.

We stepped into musty darkness. The smell of pot smoke hung thick in the air and caught in the back of my throat. I heard Ranger swear under his breath when I shut the door behind us, and suddenly a light clicked on in the corner. We must have tripped a switch because when I looked around there was no one nearby. A staircase was ahead of us and I heard someone stumbling around at the top of the landing amongst bass from Cypress Hill that was filtering down from the second floor.

"Come upstairs, Santos," Garza schmoozed out. "Is that Manoso you have with you?"

"No, it's Ricky Martin. Uncanny resemblence."

Garza chuckled, not really sounding amused. "I see. A joker." Ranger nudged me forwards and I began to ascend the stairs, one foot at a time because I was shaking so fucking badly. I heard Hal's voice in my ear.

"Change of plans. We're all behind you at the door you just went through," he told me. I couldn't respond but I relaxed a tiny bit knowing that the guys could bust in from behind us should there be a problem. I motioned for Ranger to stay put near the stairs and followed Garza into a small, filthy bathroom in a hallway towards the back of the house. My heart was pounding and I felt like there was no air to breathe when I looked into that bathroom. Sitting in the empty rusted bathtub, her hands cuffed in front of her belly, was Stephanie. She gasped back a sob when she saw me. Her face and hair were dirty. She was wearing a large gray tee shirt that belonged to neither of us and a pair of black lace panties that looked vaguely familiar, but I was next to certain that they were hers. A PB & J sandwich sat uneaten on a plate next to a bottle of water on top of the closed lid of the grungy toilet.

"Steph," I choked out, starting towards her. Garza stepped up behind me and pressed a sawed-off against my neck before granting me another one of his mirthless, sick-bastard chuckles.

"Always in a hurry to leave, Santos," he said. "Hace tres años, after Manoso shot my brother in the head. All you wanted to do was get the fuck out of there." Garza walked me backwards out of the bathroom at gunpoint and slammed the door, leaving Steph in there by herself. I could hear her sobbing softly for me. My heart was fucking _breaking._

"What the fuck have you done to her?" I growled out, my voice low and deep.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Nothing sexual. I thought you might get pissed about that since that's your job, Santos." Damn right, that was my fucking job.

Ranger stepped out of the shadows and approached Garza. "Let her go, Garza. It's me that you want. Whatever it is, we can work it out." Just as he'd said that, several of Garza's goons filtered in from the surrounding rooms of the house and came to stand behind Garza. Each of them held some sort of deadly-looking weapon and I broke out into a cold sweat. Where the fuck were Hal and the guys?

"Manoso," Garza said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same, Garza," growled Ranger.

"Unfortunately there's nothing to work out here, amigo. The damage has already been done. I'm returning a favor to mi hermano." Garza pumped the shotgun and raised it level with Ranger's face. "Follow my boys to the back of the house, and I'll let Santos's novia go."

Ranger cut his eyes to me and I saw the question of Stephanie and I surface in his eyes. A loud bang that came from down the stairs broke the silent tension and Tank's voice blasted into my ear.

"Santos, we're moving in," he yelled at me. The door at the foot of the stairs behind us burst open and the five of them crashed up to the second floor, guns drawn. Ranger and Garza and I hit the deck and everybody began yelling at once. A shot was fired by one of Garza's cholos and it was melee from there.

Hal opened fire with his Tec-9 and mowed down two of Garza's cronies. I could hear Stephanie screaming bloody murder for me from behind the closed bathroom door. That did absolutely nothing to calm my shot-out nerves. Tank blew a hole the size of Texas in the head of a third Garza goon, covering the place with brain matter and fragments of shattered skull. Cal ended up with a bullet to the shoulder and Manny took over then, emptying a clip from his Uzi into the two remaining cholos.

Garza was up on all fours, trying to get a grip on the pistol lying at his fingertips, but Ranger quickly got up and kicked it out of his reach with an almost comical ease. Ranger aimed the barrel of the nine at Garza's head and pulled the trigger while I watched.

"Go be with your brother, en el infierno," Ranger spat. He tossed the gun to the side and helped me kick in the bathroom door. I ran in to Stephanie and scooped her up into my arms. After I'd carried her out of the bathroom and set her down on her bare feet, she sobbed uncontrollably into my shoulder as Ranger unlocked the handcuffs that held her arms in front of her waist. When he clicked them off of her at last, she threw her arms around my neck and pressed her puffy, sob-swollen lips to my cheek. I brushed her messy brown curls out of her eyes and hugged her to me, completely unaware of my surroundings and indifferent to what was going on. All I cared about at that moment was holding her tight in my arms. I never, ever wanted to let go.

Down on the floor next to me, Bobby made a temporary bandage for Cal's shoulder out of a scrap of material he'd found and helped him to his feet. The guys began trooping down the stairs, one by one, leaving me and Steph upstairs standing amongst the bullet-riddled and bloody bodies of Garza and his crew.

"Shhhh, baby," I mumbled to a sniffling Stephanie when I'd assumed we were alone. "It's all over now." I pulled her face to mine and swept my tongue across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to me, kissing me hungrily and wrapping her dirty little arms around my waist. I sensed movement near the stairs and when I whirled around, Ranger was standing behind me and Steph, his arms crossed against his huge chest. His mouth wasn't smiling, but his eyes certainly were. It was more of a knowing smile than anything else. Ranger wordlessly turned away from us and descended the stairs, and I heard him exit the house through the side door at the landing.

Fuck.

* * *

**So Ranger has figured out Steph and Les...it sounds like he kind of had an idea, though. Will shit hit the fan? Or not? You'll have to read on to find out! Keep those reviews coming! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and encouragement, as always! This is it for Limericks and Lovin', starring Steph and Lester. I hope you all enjoyed reading it because I've enjoyed writing it!!! Your input is always welcome and appreciated. --Jill**

Steph's POV

"I need to put these on your cuts, Steph," Bobby said to me. He held up a bottle of betadine and a few packages of sterile bandages. "The deeper ones'll need butterfly strips to hold them together while they heal." Bobby set to work, handling my arms and legs like I was made out of a rare and precious china. I gasped when I felt the cool antiseptic hit some of the deeper leg wounds, making them sting.

Lester had been the one to help me bathe when we all got back to the hotel, since my wrists were bruised and sore from the cuffs and the soapy water in my cuts stung badly. He'd washed my hair and helped me dry off, all the while checking my body for any other potentially hidden signs of Garza's sick and demented brutality. I was now sitting between his legs on our bed in one of his oversized RangeMan tee shirts and a pair of my tiny boxer shorts. He nuzzled his cheek into my curls and pulled me back against his bare chest when Bobby's actions became too painful for me to bear. I guess my grimacing and moaning got to Les.

"Sorry, Steph," Bobby said quietly from his seat beside the bed. "I know this hurts, but if I don't disinfect these wounds I'm afraid you'll get an infection. There's no telling what kind of bacteria were on those knives they used to cut you."

Another groan escaped my throat before I managed to reply. "It's fine," I breathed. "My wrists actually hurt more."

Bobby glanced at the dark purple and black bruises that circled my wrists like torturous bracelets. When I'd come around after being stun-gunned, Garza had put me in cuffs and had closed them way too tightly around my arms. He'd told me that it was to keep me from trying to slip out of them. Evil, rotten bastard. I hoped he was festering in the sewers of hell and getting sodomized by Satan's minions.

"I'm afraid not much can't be done about that, Bomber." Bobby placed two butterfly sutures over a two-inch gash in my calf and covered the wound with sterile gauze before wrapping a thin bandage to hold everything in place. "The best I can do is some pain medication and maybe some cool compresses every now and then for the next couple days."

Lester had been very quiet from the time he'd carried me down the stairs and out of the house to the waiting Expeditions until now. I hated to think about what he must have been feeling while I was with Garza. The idea was almost too much to entertain and a huge wave of nausea washed over me. "You're doing good, Steph," Les mumbled against my cheek. He bent his head down to brush a kiss against my neck. "There's just a few more cuts to clean."

I nodded and gulped before turning my head to Bobby. "What about the burn on my thigh?" There was a cigar burn about the size of a quarter dead center on top of my left thigh, put there by Garza after I'd tried to kick him in the nuts for sticking me in that grimy bathtub full of stains from God-knows-what. If I thought my wrists hurt like hell, nothing compared to the pain of having him press that lit Cuban against my leg until I smelled my own flesh burning. I was surprised that my screams hadn't alerted the neighbors to call the cops. Or maybe I was just screaming in my head. I wasn't sure anymore.

"I'm saving that one for last," Bobby told me. "It'll probably be the most painful. I can inject some lidocaine into it before I start, but that may not make much of a difference."

"Are you positive that he didn't so much as go _near_ your panties?" Lester asked me. "Because I'll bring him back from the dead and fucking kill him again." I wanted to point out that he'd have to go through the L.A. County Coroner in order to do that, but I quickly deferred my thoughts before I got Les all riled up.

I shook my head. "No. Nobody did. Unless something happened while I was stun-gunned, but I think I would have realized that something had gone on down there once I came around." I winced as Bobby got to work on a particularly deep cut near my left knee. Ranger was the one Garza had wanted most, not Lester. And Garza knew that Lester and I were obviously involved because he had been watching us interact here at the hotel. Now if I was Ranger's girlfriend, there's no telling whether or not Garza or one of his guys would have molested me out of spite to Ranger. They probably would have. But since I was connected in many other ways to Ranger, I made the perfect hostage.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?" Bobby asked me. I thought back on the day's events. Lester and I had eaten McDonalds at dawn. I'd taken a sip of the Coke I'd gotten out of the vending machine not long after breakfast, got myself stun-gunned, and spent the rest of the morning, afternoon, and evening feeling nauseous as all hell. One of Garza's cronies had made me a sandwich and brought me some water, but my stomach had been so messed up that even the _smell _of peanut butter and jelly had made me feel queasy.

"Early this morning," I replied weakly, from my coccoon in Lester's protective arms. "McDonalds."

I watched as Bobby put down the betadine swabs and picked up his cell before dialing Cal in the next room. "I need a little something to feed Stephanie," he said as soon as Cal had answered. "Nothing greasy or spicy, though. That'll make her feel sicker. Thanks, man." Bobby disconnected and turned his attention back to the laceration on my left knee that spanned an inch and a half. He placed another set of butterfly sutures over that cut and repeated the gauzing and bandaging procedure that he'd done on my calf.

Ten minutes later, Cal swiped himself into our suite, fresh from a shower in a black tank top and baggy blue athletic shorts. A huge bandage covered his right shoulder from where the bullet had grazed him earlier. He was carrying a plate loaded with plain toasted bread, half of a sliced banana, and chunky applesauce. A small styrofoam cup was balanced in his other hand as he shut himself inside. "Tea," Cal explained, holding the cup out to me. I took a sip moaned. The warm, sweet liquid was like heaven going down.

"Where'd you get all that?" Lester asked Cal. Cal handed me the plate of food and sat down on the edge of the other bed, across from us.

"From the chef who was cleaning up down in the restaurant kitchen. Told him I had a sick friend upstairs who needed a little nourishment."

"Did _you_ convince him to prepare all of that or did the barrel of the Glock stuffed into your pants do the trick?" asked Lester, wide-eyed and grinning.

"Neither. I think it was the tat on my forehead that ultimately came through for me." He smiled back and waggled his eyebrows. Cal's flaming skull forehead tattoo was known to be the cause of loose bowels all over America. As I took a small bite of toast and washed it down with another sip of tea, it became painfully obvious why Cal usually has such a hard time finding normal women to date.

Bobby finished up with all of my cuts and lacerations. He took a tube of ointment out of his medical duffel bag and twisted off the cap. "This is for your burn. It's silver sulfadiazene. Squeeze Lester's hand because it won't feel too good to have me messing around in the wound." I did as he asked with only minimal grumbling from Lester. Bobby squeezed a huge amount of cream onto a fat cotton swab and gently rubbed it over the second-degree burn on my thigh. It felt like tiny warriors with pinpoint spears were doing the macarena on my charred flesh. Cal looked on, pale and grimacing. He never did well with medical stuff.

"How's the shoulder?" I managed to grit out, in between puffing for air and whimpering in pain.

"Not bad," Cal replied. "The bullet just tore across the surface of my skin. Can't feel a damn thing right now. Brown's got me pumped full of a local numbing agent." He shook his head.

"You should be thanking me for that, dawg," Bobby replied darkly. He tossed the used cotton swab into a wastebasket and dug around in the duffel bag before emerging with a Telfa dressing. He placed the dressing cautiously over my burn and snapped off his latex gloves. "That oughta do it, Steph."

"Thanks, Bobby," I said, allowing my head to drop back onto Lester's chest. I was exhausted. I'd managed to finish the toast and banana and a little bit of the applesauce. "Can I have a few aspirin?"

He nodded towards a container of pills sitting on the nightstand. "Take two right now, while you've got some food in your stomach. You should try to get some rest." Bobby got up from the chair and pushed it back over to the table in the corner. He gathered up his medical supplies and started towards the door with Cal on his heels. "And Santos. Go easy with her." He gave Lester a dark look and pointed an index finger in his face. With that, he and Cal let themselves out of our room and the door quietly clicked shut behind them, leaving Lester and I alone at last.

* * *

Lester gently laid me down onto my back and stretched out beside me, propped up on his elbow. His dark eyes were intense as they focused on mine. It was all I could do to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes and dropping onto the pillow underneath my head.

"I'm sorry I put you through all this," I whispered to him, feeling his warm hand stroke up and down my upper leg. "I'm sure you've been a wreck since this morning."

He pressed his lips to mine and buried his face in my curls. "I thought I'd lost you, Steph. How could I lose you when I just found you?" Lester's voice cracked and he hugged me closer to his body.

"You didn't just find me, Les," I whispered. "I've been here all along."

"You know what I mean," he whispered back.

I needed to be close to him at that moment. As close as two people could get. "I need you so badly right now, Lester," I whimpered, pulling him to lay on top of me and situating him between my thighs. He was so gentle with me and so careful not to touch my burn or my cuts that it made my heart swell with emotion. "I need to feel you inside me, filling me."

"Christ," he whispered against my lips, his voice strained. "You have no idea what you do to me, Stephanie. None at all. Since the moment I laid my eyes on you I have wanted to be with you in every way possible. _Dios_." Lester groaned as I pushed his basketball shorts down over his lean hips, freeing his hard length from the confines of the silky garment. He carefully slid my boxers from my bottom half and discarded them over the side of the bed, onto the carpet. When he saw that I had no panties on, he swelled considerably and moaned in anticipation. He gently lifted the tee shirt up off my torso and carefully brought it over my head before tossing it onto the floor to join my shorts.

Lester eased his weight onto his forearms and dropped his head down so that our lips were a breath apart. His eyes were darkened to almost black, framed with thick lashes and burning holes into mine to proclaim his intense desire for me. His warm breaths, sporadic and deep, blasted down into my face as he made attempt after attempt to gain control of his trembling body. At last, his eyelids fluttered shut and he drew his full bottom lip between his teeth. And I suddenly didn't think I could wait any longer to feel his silky length pushing into my wet, writhing body.

"Please, Lester," I whispered, desperate nearly to the point of begging to feel him sliding into me. He dropped a hand between us to part me and he let out a groan when he found me wet beyond belief for him.

"Oh my _God_," was the frustrated growl of a reply. "So fucking _wet_..." Lester sucked in a deep breath and buried his face in my curls as two of his thick fingers slipped amongst my folds and slowly slid back and forth across my swollen, aching clit. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and didn't succeed because the orgasm his talented digits was causing hit me ten-fold and had me practically screaming at the top of my lungs for more. When he sucked his fingers clean and pulled my tongue into his mouth with his own, I became undone. Lester then focused his bone-dissolving kisses on the sweet spots of my neck; my pulse point and just below my jaw line. I clutched at the smooth skin of his back when his hot tongue flicked lightly into the curve of my ear and I couldn't help the cry that strangled its way out of my throat.

When his kisses began to move even further south, my stomach coiled tightly and my drenched folds twitched in anticipation of what was to come. Lester sandwiched his hands between my upper back and the mattress so that he could push my chest towards his face, causing my back to arch and my breasts to rise towards his waiting mouth. I nearly died of pleasure when his soft, pillowy lips closed around one of my nipples and he swirled the tip of his tongue around the stiff pink peak. My lower half turned to molten lava as the sensations his tongue and lips were creating caused fire to flash through my wet depths. He knew he was torturing me because I felt him smile against the swell of my left breast.

"You want more?" Lester husked out, looking up at me with those lust-filled onyx eyes and turning me on to the point of insanity.

"God, I _want_ you in_side_ me, Lester," I groaned forcefully. My frustration ran deep and my body desperately seeked release. He clearly sensed my vexation because he positioned himself at my slick opening and slowly, inch by antagonizing inch, he filled me and stretched my body to capacity.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he slid in to the hilt. I adjusted my hips to better accomodate his, making the penetration deeper and more intense. When Lester began to move within me, my body morphed into a shimmering, blissful being and my mind spun away. The ensuing moments were flashes of colors and feelings and sounds that burned into my memory as we moved together, creating a well-orchestrated promenade of fervent passion. We exploded simultaneously, my name on his lips and tears in his eyes as he worked to control his breathing above me. I had never seen anything so gorgeous in my life as watching Lester Santos bury himself into my body and spill his heat deep within the confines of my tightened inner walls.

We laid together in a tangle of sweat-slicked arms and legs (and bandages) when we were done, coming down off of the adrenaline rush that the last twenty-four hours had provided us with. Lester pressed his lips to my sweaty temple and let his head fall down onto the pillow next to mine, all the while making little swirls on the skin of my belly with his warm fingertips.

"You are so amazing, Stephanie," he said, his voice deeper than usual. "So fucking amazing."

I smiled against his cheek. "You keep saying that," I said. "What have I done to have earned myself such an honorable title?"

"Everything," Lester replied. "It's who you are. You're strong-willed and brave, fierce and sexy as _hell_. You have a kind heart and an intelligent mind. I don't think you realize just how special of a woman you are." He smiled sadly at me.

I propped myself up on my elbow and gazed into his eyes. "What about you? You're all of those things, too, Lester. Every single one of them. They're what I admire most about you. But our friendship is still so important to me. I'd hate for something to go wrong with us relationship-wise, and have that end up ruining what we've had for ages as friends."

Lester pulled my face to his and kissed me gently. "Let's make a promise, then. Whatever happens from now on, we embrace it, good or bad. And if our friendship is strong enough to withstand the worst, it'll be forever no matter what."

"Should we hook pinkies on that, or will a verbal contract be binding?" I joked.

"For good measure, we'll hook pinkies." Lester linked both of our little fingers together and we kissed our fists in a solemn pledge. We were such dorks. Lester stifled a yawn and stretched his arms over his head. "I'm tired, beautiful."

"Me, too. But I think one or both of us needs to hunt down Ranger and explain to him what's going on," I said quietly. "He saw us kissing in the hallway earlier at the house in Ladera Heights, after you guys made Swiss cheese out of Garza and his cartel of hooligans."

Lester blew out a sigh and buried his face in the pillow. "I think I might know where he is. Like I promised you before, I'll take care of this. Don't worry about a thing, Steph." Les kissed me quickly and slid out of bed. He located his basketball shorts and a clean tank top and began dressing. My breath hitched in my throat as I watched him. He was so damned beautiful, all cut muscle and smooth caramel skin that begged to be licked and sucked. And bitten, when the mood called for a little rough-housing. I smiled at him from my pillowy nest of sheets and blankets and watched as he glanced at me and returned my grin with a naughty one of his own.

"What if I want you to kiss all my cuts and things later? You know, to make me feel better?" I asked him, pouting. Lester laughed and crawled back into bed with me once he was dressed. He hovered over me and the gold crucifix hanging from his neck lightly tickled my nose.

"Does my Stephie need her boo-boos and bruises kissed?" he asked in a kid-like voice that quickly turned husky. "Because I can make that happen, baby."

Dear God, I'd died and gone to heaven with this man. But I found myself laughing and saying, "Go find Ranger before I cuff you to this bed and give you some bruises of your own."

Lester nibbled on my earlobe before scooting down off of the bed. "Will you be here when I get back? You won't run off to get sodas or God knows what else they sell in the vending machine room?"

I laughed and then yawned. "I'll be here. I might be asleep, but I'll be here. Just be sure to lock me in."

"I will." Lester bent down for one last kiss and jammed his feet into his Nike soccer sandals. "Sweet dreams, gorgeous." He let himself out of our suite and the door clicked shut quietly behind him. The room was dark and cool and the Egyptian cotton sheets felt like heaven wrapped around my overheated body. I turned onto my side and let my eyes slide shut, the day's exhaustion finally overtaking me.

* * *

I awoke to the familiar prickling sensation inching down my spine that was usually reserved for one certain person only. The room was still cool and dark and almost completely silent, except for the hum of the central a/c and the faint din of the TV blaring out some kind of military movie in Bobby and Tank's room next door. I felt the space in bed next to me for Lester, but only sheets and pillows met my touch. I appeared to be alone. Then why did I feel the prickle? I wrapped the sheet tighter around my naked curves and struggled to sit up on my elbows.

The dark outline of someone seated across the room in the corner stole my breath away and I gasped lightly, frozen in terror.

"Relax, babe. It's just me," Ranger said quietly. He sounded tired, like he'd been defeated or something. I slowly let out the breath I'd been holding and my heart rate returned to semi-normal. I tucked the corner of the sheet into my bust so that I stayed modest and sat up fully in bed before switching on a small bedside lamp.

"Ranger?" I croaked out. "What are you doing here?" The corner of the sheet began slipping and I yelped as I rushed to tuck it back in.

Ranger let out a small chuckle. "I've seen it all before, you know." He rose up from the armchair in the corner of the room and slowly ambled over to the extra bed before lowering himself onto the edge, across from me. He had changed out of his RangeMan attire into shorts similar to Lester's and a white tank top and his hair was damp from the shower.

"Yes, you have," I agreed. "But I think we both know those days are pretty much gone."

Ranger nodded once and focused his eyes on mine. "You had us all scared today, babe. Especially Santos."

I sighed. "I feel awful for making you guys go crazy, worrying like that about me."

"It wasn't your fault," Ranger said to me. "I hope you realize that."

"I do, but I can't help but feel somewhat responsible. I should have taken Lester with me to the vending machines since we knew that Humphreys was still at large. But I had no idea some other creep had been tailing me, too."

"Again, not your fault."

We were silent for a few beats while I tried to think of something to say to break the ice about Les and I. "Did Lester find you earlier?" I asked him gingerly.

Ranger nodded again. "Yeah. He found me."

"So, did he tell you anything?" I pressed, chewing a crater in my lip.

"What, about how you and him are seeing each other? Wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out, babe." Ranger smirked.

"Um, so what are you saying, Ranger?"

"I'm saying that I had an idea all along. I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday, Steph. You may have had the guys all fooled, but certainly not me."

I blew out a sigh and blinked back tears. "I'm sorry," I choked out.

Ranger softened. "For what, babe? For developing feelings for Santos? For being attracted to him? For wanting more than what I can offer you?"

The tears fell and I sobbed shamelessly in front of Ranger. He got up from the extra bed and sat next to me on mine, wrapping me in his strong, warm arms. It felt like my heart, that had already been shattered by him once before, was repeating the agonizing process.

"You're right," I whimpered. "The only thing I have to be sorry for is the fact that we didn't come to you first about all of this. We waited until you found out the hard way because we were so afraid of how you would react to seeing us together." Ranger reached over to the nightstand and got me a tissue.

"When you think about it, I didn't really find out the hard way. And when you say 'hard way', I'm assuming you're referring to the kiss you shared with him in the hallway of Garza's place. I told you I suspected this all along, since the whole Pancoast incident."

"That's when it all started," I told Ranger. "It started out as a night together for Les and I. And somewhere along the way it progressed into something more." Ranger nodded knowingly. I assumed Lester had told him that already.

"He's more than willing and able to give you what I can't, babe," Ranger informed me quietly. "Santos cares for you deeply. I know that not only because of what he's told me, but because of what I see in his behavior. He's changing, slowly but surely. I think he's had feelings for you for a long time now."

I nodded. "Yeah, he has. And I know our friendship has changed into something more. To tell you the truth, I'm really excited to see what happens with us. Les makes me truly happy and I think that's something I've needed now for a long time."

"I agree," Ranger said. "I know you wouldn't settle for anything less, Steph. If I'm going to be forced to see you with another man, I'd rather see you with him than with anyone else. He's a good man, and a good friend to all of us. I know he'll treat you right and be there for you when you need him most."

Ranger and I grew quiet again and my eyes filled with silent tears. "If you didn't have the kind of life that you have, would we even be having this conversation?" I whispered.

Ranger's voice cracked. "No, babe. We wouldn't. There would be no question." He crushed me to him and held me tight while he stroked my back through the thin sheet and I sobbed whole-heartedly into his bare shoulder. God, he smelled like Bulgari and the tears began to fall faster. Before I even realized what I was doing, I took his face in both of my hands and pressed my lips to his. He responded with more than I gave him and when our tongues touched I felt my heart contract painfully in my chest.

The kiss felt like good-bye. Something that we both needed, almost like closure.

I pulled away from him and managed to smile through my tears. "I love you, Ranger. You're my best friend."

Ranger leaned his forehead against mine and sighed. "And you, babe, are mine."

THE END!!!!

* * *

**I need to go and read a whole bunch of Babe stories to make up for what my fingers have just typed!!! LOL So Ranger has accepted Steph and Lester together and will give his blessing to their relationship and wherever it happens to take them. I hope you have all enjoyed the S & L pairing, because they're such rare gems in the fabulous sea of Babes and Cupcakes! I'll be updating Oh, Baby! soon and I hope to write some more Babe stories in the near future, once my muse returns. Happy reading, everyone! --Jill**


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